


Reign of Shadows: Season 3

by Xandyflare



Series: Reign of Shadows [7]
Category: AdventureQuest Worlds, Destiny (Video Games), Fire Emblem Series, Reign of Shadows (Fanfiction), Rockman X | Mega Man X, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Betrayal, Bittersweet Ending, Body Horror, Character Death, Hurt/No Comfort, Kidnapping, Listen we're just dive-bombing into dark shit(TM), Mind Control, Multi, Nightmares, So buckle your seatbelts boys and girls, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-05-03 23:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xandyflare/pseuds/Xandyflare
Summary: When somebody goes, you begin to miss every bit of them dearly. Even the parts you thought were bad. If they annoyed you, you really just want them to annoy you one last time.Join us on the Reign of Shadows Discord! https://discord.gg/5mXXcXz





	1. Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Due to negative reactions overall, Andal's speech has been returned to a normal flavor. He still has a Spanish accent, don't worry.

_Wandering. That was all Iaoel did in this afterlife of his.  
  
He’s seen others, of all different species and genders. But the worst part of it was seeing all of the different Andals and not one of them even knowing him.  
  
They died in numerous different ways. The most common ones were of a mercenary named Taniks, the Scarred, or of their timeline being consumed. Not many people survived timeline destruction, light or darkness, and when they did survive, they emerged as an Umbrati or Luxonia, loyal to the cause that destroyed them.  
  
If you walked in a straight line, you would continue on forever. The afterlife had no alliance of light or darkness, just like the Walkways Iaoel lived in his entire life.  
  
Every once and awhile, Iaoel would stop and look at his hand. He was certain that he died with his engagement ring, but when he opened his eyes to find himself here, it was gone. Andal most likely took it with him, which was impressive, considering the situation that he had died in, struck down in darkness in a bid to protect his biological daughter.  
  
Carla. She never knew the truth, but Iaoel wondered if that was better. For her to never know that he married the woman who turned the entirety of his society against him to try and raise her daughter “normally”. Honestly, he was proud of the strong young woman she became, and he had his true love to thank.  
  
Iaoel sat down, staring at the scenery. The afterlife could be whatever you willed it. Iaoel liked to imagine it was a field of green with brown and red butterflies flocking blue flowers.  
  
“Iaoel?”  
  
The chrono angel’s head snapped up. On the top of the only hill in the field, stood a familiar sight.  
  
Iaoel slowly stood up. “Andal?” His voice shook. “Are you...my Andal? From the Walkways?”  
  
Andal didn’t answer, only began to tear up. “Iaoel...” He repeated.  
  
His Andal was here. With him.  
  
“It is you.” Iaoel grinned, starting to cry himself. “You're here! Really here!”  
  
Andal nearly tripped over his own feet when he began running down the hill, cloak flying as he laughed. Iaoel began racing towards him as well, scrambling uphill.  
  
Both of them collided with each other, Andal’s face on Iaoel’s shoulder. Iaoel immediately held him close, a hand placed on his head. Andal’s arms looped around his body, both crying with pure joy.  
  
Iaoel finally opened his eyes to look down. “You-”  
  
His smile faded, and his face paled. Black smoke was filtering out of his arms and drifting away where Andal just was. As for the part chrono angel himself, he was gone, as he was never there. Iaoel’s arms were wrapped around empty air.  
  
Iaoel grabbed at the smoke flying away. “No! Andal! Don’t leave me!” He fell to his knees, tears falling again, but these ones weren’t of happiness. “ANDAL, COME BACK! I’M BEGGING YOU!”  
  
The scenery of the afterlife changed to a field blackened by fire with the ebony branches of smoldering trees as Iaoel laid there, beginning to sob. The smoke was long gone, and so was the supposed illusion._  
  
Cupping a hand around the cigarette in his mouth, Takumi flicked the lighter twice before it lit up. He held it close to the cigarette, then took in a deep breath when it lit up before pulling it out and exhaling, breathing out smoke. He placed it back into his mouth, then looked before him.  
  
Uldren was at the piano in the large room, with only the two of them present. Slowly, he was playing some random starter song, but Takumi couldn’t help wincing at practically every note.  
  
The prince stopped, sniffed, and looked, smiling. “For royalty, you sure have picked up your fair share of bad habits.”  
  
“Aw, shut the hell up,” Takumi growled, but had no malice to it. “I’ve almost died every day. Might as well try some things while I’m at it.” He grinned. “And at least I know how to actually play an instrument.”  
  
“There’s a lot of keys,” Uldren answered. “It is naturally confusing.” He paused, staring at his reflection in the black piano. His hair had grown down to his shoulders at his point, he noted. He hasn’t got a haircut since his revival.  
  
Takumi looked away. “Which is why I labelled them. And you were the one who wanted to learn how to play it.”  
  
Uldren chuckled, but it was forced. “I did, Tak.”  
  
The mood of the Alliance has suffered a heavy blow. The death of Andal Brask made reality finally hit them dead on, waking them up to what kind of opponent they were facing. Not everyone knew him or knew him well, but the reactions of the ones that did know him were sufficient enough.  
  
Breaking it to Talli was absolutely awful. By the time Hunter Vanguard Lucy-1 was finished with her attempt to tell her what happened to her uncle, she was running out to go and cry in Sapphire’s arms. The mute child was startled, but didn’t even move to push her away, instead remaining with her since the horrific event.  
  
Carla and Rowan each blamed themselves for his death. Carla cried herself to sleep every night, and her adoptive father Cayde-6 found her drinking the entire six-pack of Foreteller’s Light Beer that Lance had brought. He carried her to bed, and patted her back when she vomited the next morning from a raging hangover.  
  
Rowan was even worse. He was there, he could have stopped it, but he was too weak to save Andal. He spent most of his time wandering with dull eyes, looking off into the distance and ignoring everything close to him. More than once, he stayed with Carla and her parents for the night, just to have some comfort in the form of his girlfriend.  
  
As for Lucy and Cayde themselves, it was hard for Lucy to be sad. She barely knew Andal, and could only comfort her daughters when they bawled their eyes out daily. Cayde shed no tears himself, and when being asked why, he merely explained in a dull tone that he had to be strong, as the father.  
  
Both Zavala and Ikora have been shedding tears, too. Ikora would get misty eyes at random times, and would either excuse herself to dry them, or be helped by Pidge to steady herself. Zavala cried more privately, keeping a stern but broken expression. Judging by the fact that he looks longingly at Shiro, who was sometimes with a man who’s entire right half was a different pigment from burn wounds, Andal wasn’t his only reason for grief.  
  
Footsteps approached, and Uldren quickly pulled up his hood and activated his mask to conceal his identity. Good choice, too, once he recognized the Exo walking in.  
  
“‘Ey, Deimos.” Cayde was awfully good at keeping that upbeat hint in his tone. “‘Ey, Takumi. Didn’t know you smoked.”  
  
“It’s a bad habit. I know.” Takumi sighed out another cloud. “You need something?”  
  
“I was going to ask you to come out with me. Your dads have already agreed. I just need you.”  
  
“What for?”  
  
Cayde looked over at Deimos, then leaned in close to whisper. “I don’t think Andal’s dead.”  
  
Takumi paused, but didn’t react much. He took out the cigarette, twirling it in between his fingers and knocking the faintest of ashes to the ground. His brow knitted, then relaxed as he gave a hefty sigh.  
  
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Takumi placed it back in his mouth.  
  
“Thanks, bud.” Cayde gave the closest thing to a smile, and walked out, closing the door behind him.  
  
Uldren pulled off the hood and mask. “Andal’s not dead?”  
  
“It’s a theory.” Takumi shrugged. “But hey. Worth a shot, isn’t it?” He smiled bitterly.  
  
Uldren looked. “You have something on your mind, too.”  
  
“Well, let’s just say that I’ve got strain between me and my boyfriend.” Takumi took out the cigarette. “Mixture of my bad habits, not taking the Hoshidan throne...His siblings don’t really want us to stay together. Something about me setting a bad example for the children.” Takumi laughed. “Don’t blame them.”  
  
“You seem happy with Leo.”  
  
“I am, and he returns the same. But fate has other ideas.”  
  
Uldren stood up. “You should talk to him. After your mission.”  
  
Takumi smiled dryly. “I should. But only if you do something in return.” His grin widened. “Tell Keith about your feelings to him.”  
  
Uldren’s face went into a deep purple. “Tak,” he warned.  
  
The other laughed. “I’m serious! I’m tired of you just staring at him over your shoulder!” He gave a devilish smirk. “If Leo and I do indeed drift apart, and you two aren’t together, I’m gonna sweep him off his feet.”  
  
Uldren’s face darkened. “You wouldn’t dare.”  
  
Takumi broke into a wheezing laugh. He doubled over as he clutched his sides. Uldren couldn’t help but lose his glare, snickering himself.  
  
“That proves it.” Takumi straightened up. “See you in a couple of hours, buddy.” He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray, and left the butt in it as he walked out, coughing a bit into his hand.  
  
Uldren smiled at the retreating figure. “Stay safe.”  
  
“Safe is my middle name!”  
  
Cayde was waiting in the hangar, leaning against the wall like he always did. Cedar and Dynamo were by him, Dynamo carrying himself in the same careless manner the Exo did with a glazed donut in his mouth.  
  
Takumi walked up, waving. “Hey.”  
  
Dynamo high-fived his outstretched hand, pulling the pastry out of his mouth. “Hey, kid! Ready to go find our amigo?”  
  
Takumi rolled his eyes. “That stuff is gonna kill you, Dyna.”  
  
“And you smoke!”  
  
Cedar turned his head. “Takumi, you said you stopped.”  
  
“Ah, but you forgot a key detail. I said I would cut down. I didn’t say stop.”  
  
Cedar sighed. “You’ve gotten too good with words, kid.” He looked over at Cayde. “So, where are we heading?”  
  
“The Reef.” Cayde checked the Ace of Spades in his hands before spinning it. “Petra reported that she saw someone a little too similar to Andal.”  
  
“So he did live,” Takumi stated. “Despite a megaton suicide bomb. Sounds like I know where your stubbornness comes from.”  
  
Cayde looked up. “Oh, no. This is all 100% natural, kid. Andal never rubbed off on me. I rubbed off on ‘im, and I still do today.” He began to walk off. “Come on. We gotta go get Andal and bring ‘im back before he wanders off too far.”  
  
“What’s he doing in the Reef, anyways?” Takumi began to follow. “How did he even end up there?”  
  
Cedar frowned as he walked besides him. “You would think the first place he would go to is back to the Tower. Not a place we’ve had no trouble in.” He paused for a moment. “Something isn’t right in all of this.”  
  
“We’ll figure it out when we get there, babe.” Dynamo smiled down at Cedar.  
  
Cedar rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”  
  
Takumi laughed. “You denying Dynamo is the sole reason I smoke.”  
  
“Shouldn’t it be drinking?” Cedar retorted with a wry smile.  
  
Cayde looked back. “I said we need to go!” He called in a bit of a sing-song tone. “Time’s tickin’! I’m gonna die from boredom if you guys continue chattin’!”  
  
The four made their way out of the hangar. Packing into one ship, the ragtag team let Cayde take the controls of the flight. The other three simply held on as they shot out of the Tower and towards their destination of asteroids.  
  
As the time ticked on, Takumi’s suspicions were raised. Andal was wandering, as if he was waiting to be found. And he was wandering in the Reef, far away from where he supposedly died. A knot was forming in the young man’s stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. This all felt so horribly wrong.  
  
“This isn’t right!” Takumi yelled, and all three looked. “This...Is not right. Something is really wrong. There’s no way Andal is alive. Let’s not do this.”  
  
Cedar nodded. “Yea. I got the same feeling Takumi does. I don’t like this one bit.”  
  
Cayde turned to look at the others. “Listen. I don’t like this either. But Petra has good eyes. She could recognize anyone from a blurry picture of their retreatin’ back. She saw Andal. And I want to find him.” He shrugged. “But if you really want to, I suggest we split up into two teams. One stays by the ship, one goes to investigate.”  
  
“I’ll stay.” Takumi raised a hand.  
  
Cedar crossed his arms. “I’ll stay, too. We’ll keep the ship warm in case we need to move fast.”  
  
Cayde grinned. “Then it’s you and me, amigo.”  
  
Dynamo shared a fist bump with the Exo. “We get to whine about our family in solitude.”  
  
“Oi!” Takumi growled, and only got laughed at in return.  
  
The Reef was wide, expansive, and not without its twists and turns. It would be easy for one to get lost without the proper guide. Luckily, Dynamo was right by a reliable source who knew the Reef like the back of his hand.  
  
Dynamo was twirling his buugeng in a bored manner. “It’s kind of hard being in this Alliance thing. Almost boring.”  
  
“Boring?”  
  
“Yea. When you say interdimensional war, you think...interdimensional war. Not politics and holidays and just sitting around. That isn’t fun.”  
  
“Well, the fun’s only startin’, Dyna.” Cayde laughed, twirling his gun. “If this is a trap, you could be havin’ your fun real soon.”  
  
A metal clang ran out through the empty area. Dynamo gave a wordless grunt of confusion, and looked down at his foot. It had kicked a large box, one used to hold bullets. However, it was completely empty, nothing but darkness on the bottom.  
  
Cayde nudged Dynamo’s shoulder. “If that doesn’t say trap...” He didn’t finish his sentence, instead pointing to the side.  
  
A cave built into the asteroids faced its gaping maw at the two. A line of nothing but empty bullet shells went from the box to the beginning of the cavern. A few feet in was nothing but darkness to their eyes.  
  
Cayde knelt down and picked up a shell. “Sniper rifle bullets. Andal’s favorite gun.”  
  
“Yea. This is definitely a trap.” Dynamo chuckled, crossing his arms. “They should know we aren’t that stupid.”  
  
“But what if they do?” Cayde seemed to think. “They’re tryin’ to pull reverse psychology on us.”  
  
“And what if they think that we’ll think that? What if they want us to go through the cave mouth?”  
  
“What if we’re just overthinking it?” Cayde returned. “They obviously have the trap the way we were walkin’, because they wouldn’t think us as stupid enough to fall for that.”  
  
“That means that you’re overthinking it.” Dynamo scowled. “If you’re so sure about going into the cave, why don’t you go first?”  
  
Cayde paused. “Well...I was naturally assuming you would go first. Since you’re the big one.”  
  
“I’m the big one. Not the dumb one. Definitely not the expendable one.”  
  
The Exo groaned. “Fine! I’ll go first, if that makes you feel any better.”  
  
Upon closer look, the cave was much more threatening than a distance away. The darkness seemed to continue for miles on end, hiding anything that lurked even a few feet away. The bullet trail continued on into the cave, though the trail grew a bit thinner and more scattered.  
  
Cayde went first, shining a flashlight crossed over his hand cannon. Dynamo followed, his plasma buugeng lighting up the cavern behind them. They were completely alone, save for the occasional drip of water.  
  
“Hard to imagine we’re on an asteroid belt,” Dynamo commented.  
  
“The trail ends.” Cayde pointed the flashlight on the ground, searching for more bullet shells. “But the cave continues.”  
  
Dynamo looked up at a faint rumble, frowning. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”  
  
Cayde looked up, too. “Is it getting louder?”  
  
The ceiling gave way to a roaring purple fire, and Dynamo instinctively lunged back. He tripped on his own feet, and tumbled backwards. His head slammed into the ground, but thankfully, his helmet absorbed most of the impact. Still, his ears rang as he sat up.  
  
Gaping holes were now both in the ceiling and the floor. Cayde was nowhere in sight, presumably taken down to the pits of the cavern by whatever just blasted through.  
  
Dynamo couldn’t linger on it for long. His gut suddenly twisted, and he rolled out of the way to avoid certain death. A sword slammed into the ground where he just sat, digging into the rocks.  
  
The Reploid stood up, buugeng now ready. “And you are?”  
  
The Guardian pulled the sword out of the ground slowly. They wore the Umbrati colors of purple and black on their Warlock outfit. Their helmet hid all features and even an identity.  
  
“Shandra. Also known as your death.”  
  
Dynamo laughed in return. “Many people have claimed to be that. I have yet to find a man that holds his word.”  
  
“I am not a liar, nor am I a man.” Shandra lifted her sword.  
  
Dynamo spun his buugeng. “Then shall we dance, milady?”  
  
“Let us dance indeed.”  
  
Elsewhere, Takumi stared at the controls of Cayde’s personal ship. Frowning with thought, he fiddled in his pocket, feeling around for his cigarette box.  
  
It wasn’t hard to be Cayde’s friend. It was hard to be Cayde’s friend and one of the closest companions of his murderer. Granted, Uldren doesn’t remember committing the act, and Takumi couldn’t even come close to seeing the man he is now do it. Still, the awkward feeling is there, and so is the unanimous hate towards Uldren’s name.  
  
Takumi placed one of the cigarettes in his mouth after pulling it out of the box, and searched for his lighter. Once he found it, he repeated the same action he performed just about an hour ago.  
  
Before the cigarette was lit, Cedar suddenly burst in, making Takumi drop the cigarette straight from his mouth. “Takumi!” He yelled. “Outside! Now!”  
  
Takumi picked back up the cigarette and hastily shoved it back into the box. “Why? What’s going on?”  
  
“It’s Cayde.”  
  
Once Takumi stepped outside, he realized what exact situation they were in. Judging by the unfamiliar Titan in purple and black holding an unconscious form on his shoulder, this was indeed a trap laid by the Umbrati.  
  
“You dropped something.” The Titan tossed the unresponsive Cayde to the ground at Cedar’s feet.  
  
“Where’s Dynamo?!” Takumi demanded. “And who are you?!”  
  
“Diablo. Diablo-4.” The Titan pointed over his shoulder. “And your friend’s in the closest cavern system to this ship, fighting for his life. If you hurry, you might just save him from a friend of mine. But I wouldn’t leave my old friend alone.”  
  
Takumi growled. “What’s to stop us from shooting you right now?”  
  
“Time’s ticking.” Diablo turned and walked about three feet away before darkness eclipsed him, and his whole form vanished from sight.  
  
“Stay with Cayde.” Cedar’s voice grew quiet.  
  
Takumi looked up. “But-”  
  
“STAY WITH CAYDE!”  
  
The younger one froze entirely at the ferocity of those words. He looked downwards, wincing. “Alright.”  
  
Cedar immediately began sprinting off, legging it across the Reef and leaving Takumi with a ship and an unconscious friend. Before long, he was completely out of sight.  
  
“Diablo...” Cayde groaned, rolling over.  
  
Takumi knelt down. “You knew him?’ He guessed.  
  
“Family friend. And so is the lady attackin’ Dyna. No wonder they’ve been missin’ for so long. They were consumed.”  
  
In the caverns, Dynamo fell to the ground. His body was damaged all over, dents and synthetic blood coating him. His helmet visor was shattered, revealing blue-green eyes that genuinely showed fear.  
  
Without a scrape, Shandra leaned on her sword. “Nobody’s ever killed me four times in a row before,” she noted, a Ghost with a venomous purple light instead of its friendly blue hanging by her head. “You are a very capable fighter.”  
  
“You fell to darkness...and still can use the Light?” Dynamo’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “What the hell are you?”  
  
“I am an Aerioi. The Druid Aerioi.” Shandra pulled her sword out from the ground. “You would make an amazing servant to Lord Fox. So, I will give you a choice.”  
  
“Your choice can go to hell, where it belongs!” Dynamo hissed, trying to pull himself away. “I’ve sold my soul to the devil before. I’ve done horrible things. I’ve killed people that didn’t deserve to die. But that was because then, I was a coward. I ain’t a coward no more. I’m a free man. And I’ll be free to the end.”  
  
“Then this is your end.”  
  
Shandra’s arm formed a blanket of darkness around it and shot forward. Dynamo choked on the breath he took in when it went straight through his chest as if nothing was there. He suddenly felt a horrible, crushing force in his body, and it became hard to even move.  
  
Shandra yanked her arm out, opening the clawed fist. A soul, burning blue, lingered on her palm. Dynamo immediately went slack on the ground.  
  
A third figure began to approach, reaching their arm out. “DYNAMO!” Cedar yelled in horror. He was almost there, he could almost-  
  
Shandra’s fist clenched, and the soul exploded. Shards dropped to the ground in a shower, and Dynamo’s entire face went slack. Slowly, his body went completely limp before he slumped. His buugeng clutched so tightly in his hand was released, and clattered on the cave ground before deactivating. His head hit the ground, and he went completely still.  
  
“DYNAMOOOOOO!” Cedar screamed, realizing what exactly just happened.  
  
Shandra’s head turned to see him. “Oh. You.”  
  
Tears were a fresh downpour on Cedar’s face, and his voice seethed with rage. “YOU MONSTER!”  
  
“No. You’re the monster, for prioritizing one over the other.”  
  
Cedar paused. “H-Huh?”  
  
“We have four members in the Aerioi. You’ve met two. Me and Diablo, the Brute Aerioi. Where do you think the other two are?”  
  
“...Takumi.” Cedar’s face looked on with absolute horror.  
  
“You best hurry, before you arrive too late again.” Shandra vanished into darkness, walking backwards into the shadows, and her Ghost followed.  
  
Cedar stood there, clearly tormented by this. He looked over at Dynamo’s still body. There wasn’t enough time to retrieve it. He was on a limit as it was.  
  
A wrecked sob forced its way out of his throat. Finally, he turned on his heel to begin racing back the way he came. He left his lover’s body lying there, a symbol of his failure.  
  
The run back burned even more than the way he came. Still, he ran faster than last time, ignoring everything around him.  
  
Shandra’s taunts echoed in his mind. Would he arrive too late? Was she merely tricking him? Would be be next?  
  
Immediately, all thoughts were pushed aside when Cedar could see the ship again. Takumi was in front of it, finally lighting his second cigarette. Cayde was leaning against the ship while holding his side. Both of them seemed to be talking, and Cayde was laughing about something.  
  
Cedar didn’t stop running when he was near the ship. Instead, he slammed right into Takumi, enveloping him in a surprise hug. It was so sudden and jarring that his cigarette was dropped right out of his mouth.  
  
Takumi looked up at Cedar, who had him close to his chest. “Cedar?” He asked in an unsure tone.  
  
“Thank God,” he murmured. “Thank God you’re okay.”  
  
“Why? What happened? Where’s Dynamo?”  
  
Cayde looked to the side. “...Andal.”  
  
The other two looked, Takumi pushing Cedar away from them. The wind began to pick up, and they gasped slightly or placed their hands on their available weapons.  
  
Andal was walking calmly towards them, hands at his side. His hood was down, letting the glow of the sky’s galaxy shine on one side of his face. His eyes were as bright as an Awoken’s, and were blood red. His outfit was no longer identical to Cayde’s, but the same purple and black colors as Diablo and Shandra.  
  
“He’s one of them,” Cedar realized. “The...Aerioi.”  
  
Takumi looked. “What?”  
  
“The Aerioi Fireteam,” Cayde growled. “That was the name of the fireteam Shandra and Diablo-4 were on. There were two more members, but they died in the Red War.”  
  
Takumi drew Fujin Yumi. “Seems like they’ve replaced them.”  
  
Andal stopped a few feet away. “Is that how you welcome an old friend? Not with open arms, but with readied guns?” He huffed. “I went through a lot. Surviving my own suicide attack just to pick my way back to my family.”  
  
“You’re not Andal,” Cedar declared. “You’re consumed by the darkness. And your friends killed...” He swallowed, then trailed off.  
  
Takumi looked up, gasping. “They didn’t-”  
  
“Dynamo was weak. He may have taken down Shandra a few times, but he wouldn’t have made it long in the Umbra Mondo. Death was the only option for him.”  
  
Before Cedar could open fire, Takumi did it for him. He gave a shriek of anguish and rage, and charged blindly at Andal. His metal arm was cocked back, ready to blow a hole straight through the traitor’s stomach.  
  
Andal gave a chuckle, as if the threat was nothing. He raised his arm, two fingers pressed together. When Takumi was just a hair’s width away from him, he snapped them loud enough for the sound to almost echo.  
  
The ship by them exploded in a great purple fire. Cayde, who was closest, was sent flying a long distance away. Cedar had no time to react before a flying piece of shrapnel found its way into his back. He screamed, finding himself on his stomach and pinned to the ground by the flaming wreckage.  
  
Cedar forced his eyes open through the flames. He could feel numerous parts of him severely burned, and shutdown threatened every moment. Still, he pressed hard, trying vainly to pull himself free.  
  
Ashes made his eyes sting, but he could still see the scene before him. Takumi’s feet barely touched the ground from being held in the air by the throat. Andal’s hand was clenched tightly around the vulnerable muscle, thumb firmly on his esophagus. Both Takumi’s sniper rifle and Fujin Yumi were on the ground and away from reach, so he could only kick and squirm, struggling for breath.  
  
He couldn’t hear what Andal was saying, and it was too hard to read his lips. But he knew that by the head tilts and reaction from Takumi, he was speaking. And it was nothing good.  
  
It definitely wasn’t good once Cedar saw their mouths connect. Takumi was thrashing even harder now, and he could hear his muffled screams over the roaring fire. It sounded like he was in pain, and he only screamed louder once Cedar saw blood beginning to pour from his mouth.  
  
Finally, Andal pulled back from the kiss, and a lot more blood flowed out of Takumi’s mouth. Andal spat something onto the ground, wiping blood flecks off his lips and smiling. Takumi began to wail with no words being spoken, the torrent of blood from his mouth continuing.  
  
Andal leaned back in, and rested his head on Takumi’s shoulder. His lips moved in a whisper, something impossible to here. It seemed to only be one sentence, because he dropped Takumi immediately after.  
  
Scrambling onto his feet, Takumi raced towards Cedar, a hand over his mouth. He became much more clearer when he was closer, and Cedar saw that a lot more blood than he thought was on his face now.  
  
Takumi removed his hand once close enough, and Cedar gasped. The blood was coming from the lack of a tongue, torn clean out of his mouth. Andal had bitten straight through to silence Takumi for good. The red fluid was staining Takumi’s shirt, turning it from light purple to a sick, twisted maroon.  
  
“Unruh hei.” Cedar snapped out of it once he realized Takumi was trying to form a coherent sentence, despite the blood. “Unruh hei!”  
  
“Takumi,” Cedar sobbed. “It’ll be okay.”  
  
Takumi looked more frightened at this. “Uh! Unruh hei!”  
  
“What are you saying?!” Cedar choked on his own tears. “I can’t understand you!”  
  
“Poor thing.” Andal walked close enough to be understood. “He has the knowledge that would tear the Alliance apart, and he can’t articulate it.”  
  
“What did you tell him?!” Cedar demanded.  
  
“If I told you, it would ruin the surprise,” Andal laughed.  
  
Cedar hiccuped, tears creating steam in the fire. “You’re not Andal.”  
  
“You’re right. I’m not. Andal’s soul was completely consumed by darkness, lost in his own desperation and madness. I’m the result. I like to go by Andal, too, however. I like de name.”  
  
Andal began to laugh, but stopped when he himself choked on blood. Clutching his chest, he looked to see Takumi’s knife out of its sheath and into his stomach. Takumi himself was glaring in utmost rage at the man, his pale complexion doing nothing to make him any less threatening.  
  
Slowly, Takumi forced out, “Bisch.” Absolute venom dripped from every word.  
  
Andal made a gasping laugh. “Defiant to the end, aren’t we? You would make a good puppet.”  
  
“Ooh...Yuh wosth,” Takumi challenged, standing up slowly.  
  
“I admire you. You’re not one to give up.”  
  
Both snipers immediately charged at each other. Knives and any other weapons were either tossed away or too far away to be of aid. Instead, it was a battle of fists and kicks, each party with the sole intent of beating the other to death.  
  
Andal should have been well aware Takumi would win, as the battle seemed to immediately reveal. Despite losing a lot of blood from the injury in his mouth, he did not lose sight of what he had learned. Kicks were delivered again and again to Andal’s stomach, punches from his metallic arm reserved especially for the face and groin. Soon enough, the blood on the ground was not Takumi’s, but Andal’s.  
  
Cedar wiped his eyes to look again. Takumi was straddling Andal, whose face was swollen from the repeated blows. His organic arm was pressed against Andal’s throat to keep him down, and his metallic arm was cocked back, ready to punch again.  
  
“I yield,” Andal breathlessly whispered, struggling to even get oxygen in his lungs.  
  
Takumi silently nodded in return, and slowly removed his right arm. He stood up, still poised to hit him again if he so desired. Andal pulled himself backwards, sitting up on his knees. Both glared at each other, the wreckage of the ship still flaming and casting their faces in orange glows.  
  
Takumi dropped his fists. Standing upright, he tilted his head to the side and spat a glob of blood onto the ground. He stared with a glassy complexion, then attempted to wipe away the rest on his face, his entire jaw soaked in it.  
  
Immediately, the danger now gone, he raced over to Cedar, looking at him. Miraculously, he was barely touched by the flaming wreckage, though was burnt in some areas. However, his lower half was buried, pinning him down.  
  
Cedar forced his sorrows down his throat and smiled. “You fight just like how I taught you.” He gave a dry chuckle as Takumi began moving wreckage. “Guess this means you get a metal tongue, now.”  
  
“Shudduh,” Takumi replied in an equally warm tone, smiling.  
  
Cedar could feel the weight removed from his lower half, and stood up. Takumi’s hair was wild and out of its ponytail, reaching down to his waist. His coat was torn, and his shirt soaked with his own blood. But he still smiled, and ignored the fire in his mouth.  
  
“I’m so proud of you,” Cedar stated. “Do you know that?” Takumi nodded silently. “I know you do, kid.”  
  
A single gunshot ended the moment, and Takumi gasped slightly. He staggered back, placing a hand on his chest where new blood was spreading fast. A hole had wormed its way through his chest.  
  
Cedar quickly realized what happened. “No...No, no, no, no, Takumi.” He caught Takumi as he fell forward. “Takumi! Takumi, hold on!”  
  
“Hah...” Takumi gurgled, looking up at Cedar. “Hah...”  
  
Cedar paled in the face. “Are you...trying to say Dad?” He whispered softly.  
  
Takumi didn’t answer. His body went limp, and his head tilted to the side. His metallic arm’s fingers twitched for a few moments, then went as still as the rest of his body. No other movement occured from him.  
  
Cedar looked up slowly. Andal was standing, having no clear expression on his face. Right next to him, an Umbrati entirely in ebony black armor different from standard Umbra Mondo armor stood, holding a pistol in his hand.  
  
“Goot job, Iaoel,” Andal stated emotionlessly, to which the Umbrati grunted back in its native language. “We are done here. Shandra and Diablo are waiting for us.”  
  
“You bastard!” Cedar screamed. “Why did you do all of this?!”  
  
“Because I have no choice. Fox controls my every mobement. He's killed Andal and left nothing but a hollow puppet in his place.” Andal paused, letting his words sink in. “I am a slave like your love was a slave to Sigma. Except this, I didn’t choose. He chose to be that.”  
  
“You don’t dare talk about Dynamo like that,” Cedar hissed, tears coming back to life on his face.  
  
Hand cannon shots came at a multitude. Both Andal and “Iaoel” got the message and sprinted off, vanishing into the flames. Cayde, rounding the corner, initially seemed to give chase, but only fired a couple more shots at their retreating backs.  
  
Cayde looked, and seemed to see the scene for the first time. “No.” He ran over to see Takumi’s lifeless body. “No!”  
  
Cedar hung his head in shame. “He died. He died in front of me. And he died trying to say ‘Dad’.” He hiccuped. “I don’t deserve to be called that.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Cedar,” Cayde whispered in return, staring at Takumi.  
  
“He was trying to tell me something.” Cedar recalled Takumi’s initial words. “But Andal tore out his tongue. I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Andal said that he told Takumi information that would tear the Alliance apart.”  
  
“Bastard made Takumi suffer by tellin’ him something, then renderin’ him unable to warn you,” Cayde realized. “Fox has big plans, and only Takumi knew ‘bout them. ...We need to go back to the Tower, and...inform the council.”  
  
“...Yea.” Cedar’s arms slowly wrapped around the limp body in his lap. “We do.”  
  
The trip back was absolute agony. Cedar stood in silence, cradling Takumi’s body in his arms. Fujin Yumi and Takumi's sniper rifle were laid on the wall, right next to Dynamo’s own form propped up. Cayde piloted, and said no words as well. He only stared out into space, his mind elsewhere.  
  
When Earth came into mind, Cedar’s breath faltered. At once, a huge crushing cloud came over him, and he almost stumbled forward in shock. The guilt had hit him full on once he realized people were waiting for Takumi. Hinoka was depending on him to find their missing sister. Leo was looking to try and find a solution to their relationship. All they would get was grief, something Cedar could have very well prevented.  
  
The ship jostled slightly, meaning it’s touched down, and Cayde stood up. “I’ll get Dynamo,” he said quietly before hurrying over to the Reploid, head bowed low enough so Cedar couldn’t see his eyes through his hood.  
  
Surprisingly, Cayde could pick up Dynamo easily, despite how large he was, even compared to Cedar. Cedar managed to catch Fujin Yumi when it was tossed to him, something he gave a short nod in thanks to.  
  
When Cedar stepped out of the ship and began walking, he could hear the hangar immediately grow quiet. Conversations faded out of existence, or abruptly stopped. A few people gasped, and a quick glance to his right confirmed Rowan had a hand over his mouth, tears already beginning to fall.  
  
Just his luck. Cedar could see the members of the council stepping into the hangar, preparing to go through the technological gates to head home. Queen Hinoka was in the back, smiling at Robina and laughing.  
  
Robina immediately stopped, and paled. “That’s your brother,” she realized with no hesitation.  
  
Hinoka looked. Her dear brother was limp in Cedar’s arms, blood all over the front of him. Cedar was burnt on his lower half, but nothing too serious. Tears streaked his face, and he was trying hard to not burst into tears again.  
  
Hinoka slowly stepped forward, bowled over by the scene before her. She looked up at the man who had taken care of Takumi all these years. “Cedar?”  
  
Cedar slowly held him out. “He would want to be buried in Hoshido,” he quietly answered.  
  
Hinoka, despite her smaller form, held Takumi in her arms easy. Fujin Yumi was laid on his chest, and ignoring the blood on his jaw, seemed to be at a marginal amount of peace. He was stone cold underneath his torn clothes.  
  
The queen looked up again, and seemed to be an innocent child for a moment. “This isn’t right. He said he would find Sakura.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“Why didn’t you protect him?” She raised her voice. “He said you would!”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Cedar repeated.  
  
“WHY DIDN’T YOU?!” Hinoka began to sob, clutching Takumi close to her. “HE WAS GOING TO SAVE SAKURA!”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Cedar couldn’t stop the hot tears on his face.  
  
Hinoka said nothing more, only gritted her teeth and taking gasping breaths. Only when King Xander placed a hand on her shoulder and murmured to her did she begin moving, passing Cedar.  
  
“I’m sure you did what you could,” Xander said to the sniper as he passed by.  
  
“But it wasn’t enough,” Cedar whispered in return.  
  
The council members stationed in the Alliance stood there, looking at him. Most of them stayed silent, not really wanting to try and aggravate the open wound.  
  
Cayde walked up, still holding Dynamo. “Cedar.” Cedar looked. “Where should Dynamo go?”  
  
“He liked to visit the Eurasia ruins. He’ll want to be buried there.”  
  
Lucy looked up slightly. “I’ll go. I think I might vomit if I stay inside.”  
  
Shiro patted her back. “I know you and Takumi were close.”  
  
“It was Andal.” Everyone looked at Cayde. “He got consumed. He’s got his own gang now. He murdered Takumi and Dynamo. In cold blood.”  
  
Most of everyone gasped. Allura suddenly swallowed a forming lump in her throat, feeling the same hot air of sickness making Lucy so queasy. Zavala flinched, as if he had been struck, and Shiro quickly muttered something before running off, causing Adam himself to vacate the hangar to go after him, calling his name in worry.  
  
Rowan was still watching, and had picked up on every word. He quickly ran out himself, his stomach performing flips. If he was human, he probably would have gotten a few shades paler.  
  
His destination was the small room that nobody bothered anymore. He usually found Uldren in it, playing the piano in the back and usually gaining pointers by Takumi. He quickly slipped in, almost slamming the door behind him.  
  
Uldren was kneeling by Carla, who was on her hands and knees and deeply breathing. Her lance was dug hard into the ground a few feet away, bits of the floor torn up around it. Tears went down both of their faces.  
  
“You heard?” Rowan quietly said.  
  
“Every word,” Carla answered in a shaking tone. “Takumi is dead, and my own uncle killed him.”  
  
Uldren held her shoulders to steady her. “You said this couldn’t happen. You said none of us could be consumed.” He tried to sound gentle, but absolute sorrow racked every syllable, making his voice tremble.  
  
“Because I was naïve!” Carla sobbed. “I thought of my uncle as a god! He could do everything I couldn’t! And now he’s nothing but a monster!”  
  
“I’m Light Incarnate,” Rowan reasoned. “I...I can use light to free him, right?”  
  
Carla flinched. “You don’t know how. Even Gabriel doesn’t! It’s too late for him!” She hung her head again. “It’s...too late for the only person who could understand me and stayed with me, no matter what.”  
  
Rowan did nothing but get down on his knees and hug Carla. Finding nothing else could be done, Uldren pulled them both close into his arms. Only a moment after did all three of them burst into tears once more.  
  
Back in the hangar, Cayde sat in his ship, locked away from the outside world. Cedar had long left to the Eurasia ruins, Dynamo’s body in tow. Only a few blood droplets revealed that Takumi’s corpse was even there.  
  
A flickering hologram projected a woman sitting down, resting her arms on her knees. “Pari girl told me the kid would die. Didn’t imagine it to be so soon.” She sighed. “And I didn’t imagine the problems that would come with it.”  
  
Cayde looked up slightly. “Did I ever thank you for savin’ my life in the Umbra Mondo?”  
  
“You never let me live it down, Spades.” The woman stretched her arms. “Getting the crown from the Queen just got a whole lot harder. I faked my death and everything.”  
  
Cayde leaned forward. “I heard there was four of them. Four Aerioi members. Shandra, the Druid Aerioi. Diablo-4, the Brute Aerioi. Andal, the Prowler Aerioi. And Iaoel. I don’t think he has a title.”  
  
The woman frowned. “Iaoel? Pari girl said something about a man with that name. That he was her ex-husband. And she had your daughter with him. Then, he moved on to your friend Andal, and proposed to him. But he died before they married.”  
  
“He died,” Cayde repeated. “So why is he back?”  
  
“I dunno.” The hologram stood up. “But I guess I’ll be looking into that. Thanks for the heads up, Spades.”  
  
Cayde mimicked a smile. “No problem, Kurami.”  
  
Cayde watched the hologram flicker away, then expel in purple. Standing up, he huffed before walking out of the ship and back into the hangar.


	2. Know Your Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Andal Brask  
> -Shandra  
> -Diablo-4  
> -Shadow Queen  
> -Fox  
> -Iaoel
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> A fall to darkness recorded.

Andal gasped in pain, hanging limp. The cold wall he’s been chained to has torn open wounds on his back, rubbing blood on the stone. The shackles on his wrists have rubbed his skin raw, thin trickles of red going down both arms. He wore only baggy pants, everything else torn away and discarded. At least he still had his ponytail, he dryly remarked to himself.

 

He recognized the two Guardians observing them. They were acquaintances of Cayde, despite being of different classes. However, they were different than the Shandra and Diablo-4 he remembered. Diablo’s throat light was blood red, much like Shandra’s hair was dyed red at the end instead of being green.

 

The cables so brutally forced in his arm sent out a pulse that made it throb with chrono magic. Whenever that happened, Shandra would type at a computer for a few minutes, scowl, and repeat the process. Whatever they were testing or gathering information of, Andal dreaded the outcome.

 

“How long has it been?” Andal forced past cracked and bleeding lips.

 

Diablo rolled his eyes. “Two months since your supposed death. Now drink.” He forced the glass of water to Andal’s lips, who greedily drank.

 

The cuffs weren’t even removed for Andal to eat. He was instead forced to eat a slimy green liquid that made his throat burn and tears well up. But at least it kept him alive.

 

Two months. It felt so much longer. His unkept beard that he shed only a while ago was coming back, much to his dismay. He preferred the neatly kept goatee. His arms absolutely burned from being held up above the ground, and shook constantly. Then again, all feelings in his legs have been lost, so he didn’t know which was worst.

 

Sleeping was the worst, or it would be if he got any. They were more forced naps that he couldn’t fight off. He didn’t know how long he slept, but no matter what, he would wake up feeling worse than before and even more exhausted.

 

“You should be happy.” He fought through his delirious state to listen to Shandra. “The Queen will be seeing you today.”

 

Andal’s voice was hoarse, but firm. “Tell her to go kill herself and save me the effort.”

 

“You say that as if you are in a good enough state to even fight back against her,” Shandra retorted, closing the notebook she was writing in. “Besides, we got all the data we need. We just need you in a better state.”

 

“I will gladly die then, puta,” Andal snapped.

 

“I don’t know what that means,” Shandra said as if she was proud of that.

 

Both she and Diablo turned and left the room. Once they stepped up the stairs and out the door, the faint violet flames lighting the room went out, and Andal was plunged into darkness.

 

He weakly groaned and shifted, but hissed at the agitation on his back. Most of the wounds were definitely infected, nothing but bloody scars swelling with pus and bacteria. Deep red lines went from his back to his heart, definitely signalling something was wrong.

 

The violet flames roared back to life in an intensity Andal has never seen them before. They practically burned his eyes, and he squeezed them shut, gasping in pain. His temple throbbed, and a new wave of nausea struck him.

 

He could hear steps approaching, and a cold hand touched his face. The Queen’s hand wasn’t armored in her normal outfit, but was completely bare, revealing black fingernails. She only wore a black hoodie and normal jeans, the hood up around her head.

 

“Andal?” She spoke in a soft, friendly tone.

 

“Whatever deal with the devil you’re offering, I’m not taking it,” Andal bit back.

 

“I’m not making a deal. I’m helping you, whether you like it or not.”

 

The shackles vanished abruptly from Andal’s wrists, and he dropped to the ground. Immediately, his legs came out under him, and he crashed straight onto the ground. Nausea smashed into him headlong, and he vomited whatever sludge was in his stomach.

 

The Shadow Queen only crouched down, a hand holding back Andal’s greasy ponytail. She frowned at the horrid condition he was in, flinching at how pale his face was. Fox had ignored him until the study of the chrono anomaly in his soul was completed and it was time to transfer the project over to the Queen, and it showed.

 

“Breathe,” she gently spoke. “Just breathe, Brask.”

 

As Andal took gasping breaths, the Queen inspected his bare back. They looked like lashes, red bloody lines going up and down. Most were infected, many caked by bloody scabs. She lightly dabbed one, and Andal grunted in obvious pain.

 

Shadows collected in the Queen’s hands. “I’m going to have to heal the wounds,” she said. “Is that alright?”

 

“I’ll die to infection before I let you touch me!” Andal moved to shove her away, but yelped in pain when he agitated those said wounds.

 

“You don’t have a choice in the matter. You’re too weak to fight me off. I just want to help you.”

 

Andal flashed a bitter scowl. However, he didn’t move or speak, and looked away. The Queen took that as a sign to place her hands on Andal's back and call upon her powers of shadow to begin a classic healing spell.

 

The Queen continued to frown with sympathy as Andal growled during the process. Bits of stone could be seen caught in the open skin, dug in. The Queen managed to pull them out without too much trouble, and by the end of her chanting, the bloody scabs and pus were gone to show nothing but scars on his back.

 

The wrists were rubbed raw, and looked considerably worse, surprisingly. Most of the area where the cuffs had been were infected, and practically oozing pus and blood. Andal even reacted in pain more than his back once her hands graced them. Ignoring his writhing, the Queen continued to heal the wounds until most of the infection was no longer visible, and most of the coloring was just different shades of red.

 

“Why are you helping me?” Andal growled. “Aren’t you supposed to be killing me?”

 

“You know, if I wasn’t Shadow Incarnate, this war would have never begun.” Andal looked confused at her. “I’ve spent the last five years hunting down Rowan, or the Light Incarnate. Fox tracked him down to your timeline, and we attacked the Tower there to find him.”

 

“You miscalculated,” Andal remarked. “Rowan arrived after you attacked the Tower. He wasn’t even in the timeline beforehand.”

 

“Well, we just followed your niece into the specific timeline,” the Shadow Queen admitted. “But trust me. If it weren’t for my destiny, we would be good friends.”

 

“I doubt it,” Andal bit back. “You’re probably just playing nice to guilt trip me.”

 

“Interpret my kindness however you wish,” the Queen said. “I’m just going to be kind.” Andal glared when the Queen stood up. “Can you walk?”

 

“If you’re going to offer a crutch, I don’t want it.” Andal attempted to get up on his numb legs, and immediately flailed his arms to regain balance.

 

The Queen immediately stood up, and clasped his arm. “I will take that as a no. I’ll teleport us to our destination.”

 

“Didn’t I say clearly enough I don’t want your help?” Andal snapped.

 

“And didn’t you hear that I don’t care what you think?” The Queen returned. “All I want to do is help you. And you need help. You’ve suffered two months of torture, and it’s now my job to help you heal from it.”

 

Andal began to bite back, but winced in pain. He groaned and almost doubled over, if it weren't for the Queen holding him up. His breathing grew quicker, and he was stark white in the face. Sweat made his loose hair cling to his face, and he struggled for every breath.

 

The Queen placed a hand on his forehead. “You’re running a fever,” she noted. “You must get some proper rest.”

 

Andal lowered his head in shame, staring at the stone floor as the fight drained out of him. “Fine,” he whispered, black spots dancing in his vision.

 

A cold feeling washed over him, but it felt like heaven on his body, which in turn felt as if it was on fire. He looked up slightly to see darkness covering his entire vision and washing over him like a wave of relief. It felt amazing, a beautiful contrast to the stuffy, humid air of the cell he was chained and experimented on in.

 

Andal blinked a few times once the veil dropped away, retreating into the ground. Now, he was in a small room, furnished to be a bedroom. A small bed was nestled into the corner, covered by purple blankets. A writing desk sat just at the end of it, an unlit lantern placed by a blank paper. The floor was made of black carpet that soothed Andal’s bare feet. The walls were a rich purple, black ivory designs along the edges.

 

The Shadow Queen helped Andal to the bed, and shifted him so he could crawl on. “You can stay here for now. It’s not much, but it would do.”

 

Resistance has left Andal, much like any sort of energy. He pressed his head into the pillow, and mumbled something unintelligible. He passed out only a few seconds later, and began to softly snore.

 

The Queen smiled, and pulled the blankets up onto him. “Have some time to recover, Brask.”

 

She stepped back, pulling up her hood over her hair. Andal seemed a bit more peaceful in that moment, his eyes lined with bags shut for once in what felt like a lifetime to him. His entire body, once tense, was relaxed completely. He was practically in a coma, at this point.

 

The Queen had little idea what experiments Fox was performing on him. Investigation only lead to knowing the project title, “IAOEL”, and that it had something to do with Andal’s soul. Fox was even willing enough to admit that he was attempting to replicate chrono magic for the project. Judging by him releasing Andal into her care, he had succeeded, and no longer required the sniper to be tested on.

 

Fox being willing. What a strange concept to many. Everybody in the universe except her saw him as a cruel, irredeemable tyrant, and she didn’t blame them. However, she was the one miracle who was able to see who he really was. They even shared their true names with each other. Nobody else except them knew what their birth names were, and they were perfectly happy with only the other knowing.

 

Fox treated her like any other pest when they first met. He scoffed at her, ignored her, and was probably using her because of her destiny as Shadow Incarnate. He saw her as nothing but a toy, one to play with until he’s had his fun, and would proceed to toss her away.

 

Except it all changed when she smiled at him that one time. He had been grumpily doing paperwork six years ago, on the eve of the Otherworlder War. He was attempting to find ways into the Umbra Mondo, and using Aytolis and Gristonne’s position in the universe to leak into other timelines. The pocket dimension was connected to every timeline in its own way, allowing easy access if one just reached out and tapped into it.

 

Fox was agitated at something, half-baked and exhausted. Perhaps it was the stress of his recent actions of creating the three Icons that would serve as the “royal family” of Mavericks and the ones he would pin the blame on. Maybe it was the attempts of breaking into the plane of pure darkness. Whatever it was, it was driving him nuts, so the Queen decided to prepare him a drink.

 

Fox had looked shocked when she brought it to her. “A...coffee-flavored E-Tank with a side of mint cake.” He blinked, then blinked again. “You know my preferences of energy intake?”

 

The Queen gave a warm smile. “I know you too well, don’t I?”

 

Something had lined up in his head. Fox suddenly stared at her, as if the fog in the mirror disappeared to reveal parts he never knew about himself. Tears rolled down his face for the first time in his Reploid life.

 

The Queen gasped. “Fox!”

 

“You...You seem so beautiful and familiar,” he sobbed. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me while I used you.”

 

She wiped away his tears with a finger. “It’s okay.”

 

“It isn’t. I’m nothing but a cruel beast with a corrupted mind. I probably would have killed you when your use to me was over. I’m so sorry.”

 

It took a long time for Fox to recover from his sudden breakdown. The Shadow Queen was there for him the entire time, speaking in a comforting tone and routinely bringing him his favorite mint cake. Fox would say nothing but look down in shame, sheltering himself and restricting himself to his work.

 

Finally, he once more returned to reacting at the Queen. He would not scoff with contempt, but instead with a warm and playful tone. He smiled much more genuinely at her, and opened up about a lot more things about him. For one, he was very interested in the concept of souls and manipulating or even creating them, referred to as soulcraft. For another, he really, really liked dragons, which she would admit is the cutest thing about him ever.

 

They never confessed. She doubted they’ve even said “I love you” to each other. However, Fox routinely cuddled with her and peppered her with soft kisses. She would in return embrace him, and pull him away from his work to join her in her personal shroud of darkness, where they wouldn’t be bothered. It would only be them and the blood of her Umbrati ancestors pulsing through her veins.

 

As she stared at Andal, she clicked the nib of her elegant purple pen. In ebony ink, she began to outline the frame of a dragon. It was more of a serpent, with a coiling back and the tail of a feathered fish. Fox commonly referred to the serpent as “Noir”, as she had drawn it repeatedly in various poses to gift to him. He’s admitted that it’s his favorite dragon.

 

The Reploid himself came from darkness into the room. “Your Highness.”

 

The Queen signaled him to remain quiet, placing a finger on her lips. “He’s asleep,” she whispered. “He went out like a light the moment he was on the bed.”

 

“No doubt he would.” Fox walked over to stand by the queen. “He hasn’t been in the best condition these past two months.”

 

She looked over. “What do you plan to do with him?”

 

“Well, my research on his soul is completed, and his abilities simply cannot go to waste,” Fox explained. “I’ve been making a new chapter in my book of soulcraft, so to speak.”

 

“You are the master at it.” The Queen smiled. “What are you planning?”

 

“To see if I can place a temporary soul into him to become a spirit guide and anchor of darkness. Much like you and Ciar.”

 

Her Umbrati ancestor’s voice echoed in her mind. _“I was not created from soulcraft. Tell him that.”_

 

“Ciar doesn’t like that comparison,” the Queen chided.

 

Fox laughed a bit. “He doesn’t like anything I do.” His normal frown returned. “Of course, I cannot do anything to Andal in the state he is. That’s why I asked you to help him heal, and restore him back to his former state.”

 

“I can do just that.” The Shadow Queen smiled. “He really isn’t in a position to argue against me.”

 

“You are too kind.” Fox sighed. “If the prophecy dictating you to fight Rowan was never put in place...”

 

“I would be a friend to the Alliance,” the Queen finished. “I know. I tell myself that every day.”

 

Andal stayed asleep for two whole days. He barely even moved in bed, curling up under the covers. Miraculously, he barely even moved when the Queen routinely checked in. He was definitely in a coma.

 

Regardless, once her duties as queen were finished, she would always check in on him, on the occasion he did awake. On the second night, she even fell asleep in the chair she was sitting in. That proved to be a good call, too.

 

The Queen woke up just as Andal was stirring. Groaning, the older man sat up slowly, the pain in his back now just a sore ache. He rubbed his noggin with a head, careful to not agitate his wrist.

 

“Thirsty?” She guessed. “You slept for two days.”

 

Andal grunted in response, and nodded. She took no time in letting the fog of darkness clump in her hand, then expel to show a plastic water bottle, cold to the touch, and passing it over. He almost ripped off the cap and chugged it all in under about twenty seconds.

 

When he finally pulled it away, he gasped for breath, then whispered almost inaudibly, “Two days?”

 

“I kept track,” she politely answered. “You seemed to have really needed it.”

 

Andal tossed the water bottle away, not caring where it landed in the room. “What do you want?”

 

The Shadow Queen expertly snatched the bottle out of the air without looking. “What do you mean?”

 

“Why am I still alive? Am I still useful to you?”

 

“I will preferably decline on answering your questions.” She still smiled, however. “Would you care for some food? I can warm up some soup.”

 

Andal stared at the blanket covering his lap. He would normally say no, but his stomach was practically begging for food at the point. Even the mere thought of soup made it growl, and he winced in pain.

 

“Fine.” He gave in. “I’ll have some.”

 

“Wonderful. I’ll be back.” The Queen vanished straight from her chair, leaving Andal alone.

 

Once she was gone, Andal immediately threw off the blankets on his lap. Swinging his legs over the bed, he slowly pressed his bare foot to the ground. When he made sure it wasn’t numb, he stood up on both feet, then immediately grabbed the exact chair the Queen sat in, stumbling and becoming lightheaded. He stood there, gasping for breath, before managing to stand upright on shaking legs.

 

Slowly, he stumbled to the door, and clasped the doorknob. Hope swelling in his chest, he yanked on it. However, it did not budge in the slightest, completely immobile. Andal paused before repeatedly attempting to twist it. Instead, there was a snap, and it came right off the door and sent him crashing to the ground.

 

The Queen reappeared with an amused expression and a bed tray. A black bowl with soup was balanced on it, along with some toast and butter on the side. “The door is fixed to the wall. It’s decoration. We usually come in and out of this room by teleportation.”

 

Andal slowly staggered up. “What’s the point of having it?” He growled, his bitter tone returning for once.

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But if you want your meal, you’re going to have to get on the bed.”

 

The part-chrono angel grunted, enough fight in him to initially not want to comply. But he could smell the food from here, and his entire body and mind practically screamed for it. Not entirely wanting to, he pulled himself back on the bed, discarding the doorknob on the floor.

 

When he laid down, the Queen set down the meal before him. “There you go.”

 

Andal wasted no time. Instead of using the spoon, he snatched the bowl and promptly chugged the contents of the bowl. He completely finished in record time, using the spoon to scrape the remains in his mouth.

 

The Queen pointed to the side. “That door is real,” she stated. “It’s the bathroom. You got a shaving kit in there, too.”

 

“Thank god,” Andal remarked, rubbing his chin. “I hate it when I get a beard.”

 

“I’ll leave you to it.” The Queen smiled as Andal proceeded to waste the entire butter stick on the toast. “You obviously aren’t going anywhere.”

 

“Yea, ha ha. Funny joke, your Highness.” Andal cut himself off by shoving the toast in his mouth.

 

Once the Queen left, Andal was left with nothing to do but fix himself up. Hard to do so in such a weak state, but he ached for a bath more than a nap. And he would really like to get rid of the stubbly bush on his face. Setting aside the bed tray, he grunted and pulled himself out of bed.

 

By the next hour, his face was completely clean. His ponytail was redone, his hair vacant of grease and a lot more fluffier as a result. He found he needed to toss his pants away, seeing they were streaked with blood in the back and that they’ve seen their share of worn and torn.

 

Clothed in only a bathrobe, Andal looked at the wardrobe in the corner. They were piled full with black and purple clothes. Of course. The Umbra Mondo wouldn’t have it any other way. Finding no other option, he pulled out the closest thing resembling a Hunter outfit, which included a belt with a lot of hooks.

 

Once he flipped on the hood, he preoccupied himself with staring at the design. It was pure black, purple designs in the form of rose thorns twining up. On the back of the hood itself was the purple outline of a black rose.

 

It felt warm. It felt safe. Suddenly, Andal gripped at it. He didn’t want to ever take it off. It felt so homely and-

 

Immediately, he yanked it off and threw it to the ground. Eyes widening in horror, he stared at it as if it were a live being. Pressing his back to the wall, he placed as much distance between himself and the cloak. Warmth replaced by immediate terror at what it did to his mind, Andal vowed to stuff it back into the wardrobe.

 

Ten minutes later, he was slipping it back on.

 

It was warm, like a blanket. Like it emanated its own heat. Andal pressed a fistful of it to his nose and sniffed. It smelled so nice, like the freedom he longed for.

 

He could probably sleep in it. Wrap himself up in a tight cocoon, and shield himself from the outside world. It could provide him safety and comfort. He could definitely sleep in it.

 

The room barely had anything else. Books, nothing. Any contact to anybody, not in the slightest. What it did have was paper. Lots of it stored in the writing desk at the end of the bed. It also had a small tub of ink, a beautiful purple feather nestled in it.

 

The first few papers were dedicated to practicing writing with the quill. Immediately, he had pressed too hard, and it snapped. However, it only took a few seconds before it magically repaired itself. He also noticed that the small tub of ink was infinite, providing him an endless writing source.

 

The only empty drawer was empty no longer. Whatever he wrote, he placed it in there. Logs detailing his practically uneventful imprisonment, or the written version of events in his life. Writing was probably his only distraction from the despair forced on him.

 

Surprisingly, he found himself more wishful than he’s ever been. Moreso when he was condemned to teleporting around the universe for half a decade. His dreams were flooded with happier times, and events going the way he wanted them to. Instead of Iaoel dying in his arms and leaving nothing but his blood on his lover’s hands, he followed Andal in his curse of jumping around universes and spent his cursed loneliness with him. Instead of Parisia’s cruel manipulation, she and Iaoel would be good friends, only divorcing because of Iaoel’s internal conflict of sexuality. And instead of Carla and Keya being outcasts, their wonderful ideas and creativity would be heralded in the society of chrono angels.

 

He wished for it all to come true. He wanted those idealistic dreams to be reality. He would do anything for them. In fact, he would do anything just to see his love’s face again.

 

The first visitor besides the Queen was Fox, and he didn’t even say anything. He merely strode over to Andal before viciously grabbing him and stabbing a needle straight into his neck. Andal could barely even scream before a sudden need for sleep overtook him. In less than a minute, he was passed out cold, completely unresponsive.

 

The next time he awoke, he was lying back in bed. His head throbbed, his brain pounding against his cranium. He couldn’t help but make a soft whimper at this, and quickly seized a breath. His chest ached, and he could feel a strange weight on it, crushing his ribs.

 

As he struggled to breath properly, a voice whispered lovingly. “Andal, you poor thing.”

 

Andal tilted his head. “Iao...el?” He gasped.

 

A man in ebony black armor sat at the edge of the bed. A beard that was a good inch and was the same hair color as Carla’s nestled on his face. Messy hair draped over his face, but left his sparkling blue eyes identical to Lance’s uncovered.

 

Andal sobbed, smiling widely. “Iaoel!”

 

Iaoel smiled at him in return. “You saved my soul, Andal. It’s been within you this whole time. You’ve protected it without even knowing.”

 

“I love you, Iaoel. I’ve missed you so much.”

 

“Missed me?” Iaoel laughed. “You’re foolish. I never left you.”

 

Andal hiccuped, smiling. He reached a hand to Iaoel, who replicated the same manner. Their hands connected, but Andal felt no warmth.

 

Iaoel noticed Andal’s forlorn expression. “Alas, I am a soul without a body. I only share your conscious. You only see nothing but a mirage.”

 

“I want to feel you again,” Andal begged. “Please.”

 

“I have no body. It was destroyed by darkness. You know this.”

 

“I’ll think of something. Something that can bring you to me.”

 

“I know you will. That is why I love you so much. You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

 

Andal smiled. “I would. I love you too much to not.”

 

After a while, the crushing feeling in his chest receded, but Iaoel stayed. He only smiled at Andal, knowing very well touching him was impossible. Instead, he roamed around the room, phasing through all objects like he was nothing but a hologram.

 

Amdal looked up at the familiar entrance of wind. The Shadow Queen was holding the bed tray used to serve him his meals. He could identify the food as a hamburger and a glass of milk. He briefly wondered how she acquired both of those things.

 

“You’re up and at it,” the Queen teased as if he was an old friend.

 

Surprisingly, he smiled in return. “Indeed I am.” He quickly stopped frowning. “I want to talk to you. I need a body.”

 

The Queen looked baffled. “Excuse me?”

 

Andal realized how that sounded. “Well, I just...No. I want a body for a soul. A vessel.”

 

“Oh! I understand! But I don’t understand why.”

 

Andal paused. Obviously, she was the enemy. The enemy couldn’t be trusted with personal reasons and secrets. He would be stupid to spill anything to her. But the longer he stayed in silence, the more he wanted to speak the truth, and only the truth.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Andal glanced at Iaoel, who noticed he was staring at him. Surprising him, Iaoel nodded, as if to give him the go ahead.

 

Amdal immediately wasted no time. “I figured out a second soul is in my body. It’s my love, who I thought deceased for years. I thought...”

 

“I’m not one for favors.” The Queen frowned pitifully. “But I’ll see what I can converse with Fox.” She held out the bed tray. “In the meantime, here is your dinner.”

 

Andal took it. “Thank you, your Highness.” His tone when saying that has become a lot more affectionate and friendly.

 

She smiled back before vanishing into shadow. The wind picked up again, then vanished abruptly. Besides the second soul making the illusion next to him, he was alone again.

 

“Fox won’t approve of this,” Andal growled. “He was the one that killed you in the first place.”

 

“You had to try,” Iaoel hummed. “Didn’t you?”

 

“Yea, I guess.” Andal set the bed tray on the table.

 

For the next few hours, nothing happened. Andal began to write again, but his entires were focused solely on Iaoel and the pure ecstasy he had at seeing him again. His hope was higher and ever, and his mind began to ramble on and on about what to do when he could feel Iaoel’s skin once more instead of just seeing him and hearing his voice.

 

With nothing else to distract his mind, soon, it was all about Iaoel. He would do anything to bring him back. He was the light of his life for fourteen years, before yanked away cruelly. Andal may even go to the extent of forgiving Fox if he came through with helping.

 

And help he did. Andal could feel the wind go through the room, and looked up with expectations. His smile, however, dropped away immediately.

 

Fox stood there, axe dripping with blood in hand. Under his arm was a bleeding and limp Lance, wrists tied together with coarse violet rope.

 

Andal stood up. “Lance!”

 

Fox dropped the unmoving boy with zero care. “No worries. This is a Lance from a separate timeline. He doesn’t even know you. You have my word on that.”

 

Andal glared, still. “What’s the meaning of this?”

 

“You said you wanted a vessel, right? I just merely brought you one.”

 

Iaoel smiled wistfully. “Your mind says we have the same eyes,” he stated. “What luck.”

 

Andal paused. “You’re...asking me to kill this Lance?”

 

“Nobody will miss him,” Fox droned. “He’s one out of a million. The timeline he’s from, I already destroyed. He’ll be dead either way.”

 

Distressed, Andal looked to his voice of reason, to only see the same smile. “It is one life out of infinite ones, cariño.” Andal gasped at the nickname. “Please. Make the sacrifice so I can be with you again.”

 

The sniper’s worries washed away in that moment, and his mind went blank. He would do anything for Iaoel. Anything to bring him back. He swore on that. And he was never one to break promises.

 

Lance groaned as Andal knelt down and pulled him up on his knees. The Cuban blinked a few times, then cracked open his eyes. They really were just like Iaoel’s. But nothing could compare to Iaoel’s. They just were close enough.

 

“Who are you...?” He groaned. “Are you working for the Galra?”

 

Andal only smiled in return. “It will be okay, Iaoel. We will be together again.”

 

Iaoel knelt down, too. “I know we will.”

 

Lance leaned back, though Andal held fast to his arms. “What are you talking about? My name is Lan-”

 

The sniper suddenly yanked Lance hard into a rough kiss. The Cuban’s eyes went wide, unable to process what was going on. His entire body went slack just for a moment before it tensed straight up.

 

Andal suddenly breathed a lot better, taking in a huge gulp of air. He let go of Lance, breathing steadily as Iaoel vanished from his vision. Initially, he gritted his teeth, panicking on that. But he stopped worrying once Lance began to scream.

 

Darkness was frothing around Lance’s form, consuming him bit by bit. Painfully, his teeth began to reconstruct into the fanged maw an Umbrati has. His skin delving deeper into a purple shade, his now midnight purple hair pressed down to resemble Iaoel’s. His eyes began to glow the brightest of blue, becoming an identical copy of Iaoel’s.

 

Andal sat up, smiling despite Lance’s obvious pain. “Iaoel,” he laughed. “You’re alive!”

 

Lance gasped for breath, shaking. Tears pouring down his face, he looked up at Andal, who stared at him expectantly. Both of them plunged into silence, the room quiet except for their breathing. Andal noticed Fox has left the two.

 

There was a snap, and Andal gasped. The ropes around Lance’s wrists were torn clean in half by him merely tugging once. His skin and hair were the exact colors of an Umbrati now, only his glowing irises the last evidence of humanity.

 

Lance lunged forward, and slammed right into Andal. Both were sent to the ground, the Umbrati pinning the other with his body. Andal immediately began to kick around, flailing his entire body in order to get out.

 

“Andal.” He stopped, and stared into Lance’s eyes. “You absolutely loyal fool. Thank you.”

 

“Iaoel...” Andal’s worries once more melted away, and he gained a stupid smile.

 

Iaoel purred, and pressed a kiss to Andal’s right eyelid. “You really are dense.” He kissed his left one. “I’m not the true Iaoel. I never was. Iaoel is still dead, his soul having passed on. I’m just a replica created by Fox to enslave your entire being.”

 

Andal opened his eyes to reveal they were both now blood red. “And you succeeded very well.”

 

“Oh, I did.” Iaoel stood up. “I don’t care for you at all. But you would dedicate your life to me, wouldn’t you?”

 

“I will slaughter anybody for you.” Andal stood up as well.

 

Iaoel raised his hand, and pressed a thumb to Andal’s cheek. “Good. You’re nothing but a puppet now. As long as I draw breath, your every fiber will be dedicated to Lord Fox.”

 

“I woult only do it if you are there with me, my love.” Andal leaned into the touch.

 

“I am only your love in your eyes. To me, you are nothing but a wooden doll on strings I hold. But you are too blinded to truly comprehend this, aren’t you?”

 

Andal laughed. “I am.”

 

Iaoel turned away. “Now, I don’t expect the full hypnosis to stabilize well. We’ll probably stay a few days more to see how long it takes for you to be endlessly submissive.”

 

It didn’t stabilize well at all. A few hours later, Andal was clutching his head, screaming mad. Iaoel only watched as he sobbed and laughed at the same time, breaking the quill over and over again in madness-induced writing. About half an hour later, he sat in the corner, eyes dull and staring into the corner. He barely even breathed, Iaoel carelessly eating the hamburger that’s grown cold and ignoring the now sour milk.

 

Andal refused to eat. He curled up in his bed, neither not moving or slamming himself on the walls over and over. He kept repeatedly breaking his own bones and clawing at his own skin, only for Iaoel to carelessly heal him before continuing to ignore him. Over time, Andal became once more the pale and gaunt version of himself.

 

By the end of his third month in captivity, Andal Brask was merely a puppet to the fake Iaoel, in turn a slave to Fox. And just a few days after that, the murders of Takumi and Dynamo were orchestrated.


	3. Production Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Cedar  
> -Cypress  
> -Various mentioned
> 
> Chapter summary:  
> Two siblings reunite, but are still worlds apart.

_Production Lines_

 

**Author’s Note: The story of Cedar and Cypress has been edited from the previous log to exclude the spoken name of the Jade Courtyard. I was informed by many others that my interpretation of their history was actually detrimental to other interpretations of the character of Cedar, and I apologize. If I had known this was the case, I never would have done the initial draft.**

 

The life of a Blade of Marmora was a dangerous one, but a good one. Cypress certainly thought it was better than her previous life as a slave to the human monopoly.

 

The death of Takumi hit the Blades hard. Krolia delivered it to the thirty-something Blades in a shaky tone, sending a shockwave all throughout them. Tears were shed, and curses flew out of people’s mouths. Even Nythera quickly excused herself, probably to cry somewhere.

 

As for Cypress, she didn’t react that much. She still showed sadness, but there was nothing beyond looking down at the ground in shame. There were no tears shed. She said nothing about it. She quickly decided to forget about it and move on.

 

It was easy to forget. Takumi was never close to her in the field. He gravitated towards Uldren and Keith, people she never hung out with. Their tastes were different. While she marveled at his Reploid arm, there were virtually no words exchanged between them. That’s probably why she didn’t cry. Lack of emotional attachment towards the victim.

 

Cypress had no friends in the Blades, to be honest. She talked to most of them, and got on good terms with Nythera, but could only be called a friend by Faro. He helped get her into the Blades in the first place. He was the one that found her destroyed and dying, not Krolia. She owed her life to him, but could only repay it in the status of friend.

 

She normally never stayed around in the Tower. Instead, she stuck to the Blades still lingering in Greenguard Forest, while most moved on to train in the Alliance hotspot. Though really, it was to protect themselves. If one of their best soldiers went fully armed and ready to a mission amongst close comrades and perished, what’s to say the same can’t happen to them?

 

However, today, she found herself in the Last City. Her white hair was normally down, but for today, it was in a ponytail with a purple scrunchie. Her legs were crossed as she sat in a chair, ignoring most of the people around her as she looked at the data pad in her hands. A pencil was in her hands, but she wasn’t using it for writing. Instead, she was gnawing on the end, a bad habit she picked up long ago, when she was a slave to humanity.

 

A light breeze was kicking up inside the Tower, probably from the numerous open areas and windows. Subconsciously, she shivered, and looked up to probably occupy herself by glaring at the nearest open window until it would magically shut by itself.

 

Instead, she saw somebody closing it themselves. Their overcoat almost dragged on the ground, and that in turn was covered almost completely by their lavender hair. Her optics immediately picked them up as a Reploid, production line-

 

Her pencil immediately dropped out of her hands. Her jaw went to the floor, and she almost let go of the data pad.

 

Production line SYB-001. Only 6 SYB models were ever made. She was SYB-002.

 

Cypress put the data pad on the chair before breaking into a sprint. She raced down the hall before Cedar took two steps, and immediately grabbed his wrist.

 

Cedar looked over his shoulder at the much smaller Reploid. “Huh?”

 

“Cypress,” she only said. “SYB-002.”

 

The mercenary said nothing for a moment. He squinted, and Cypress could tell he was scanning her. Then, his eyes went as wide as dinner plates when the scan completed and picked up her production line.

 

“Shipping and handling robot,” he said quietly. “Went out of date. They made her bite the dust.”

 

“They lied.”

 

Both of them stared at each other. Cypress used to have curlier hair, wrapped up in a wavy bun. And Cedar used to have a bob cut with stray hairs in the front. Both of them were of simple jobs any normal human could fulfill. But both have changed. Now, they were elite mercenaries, finding themselves worlds apart.

 

Cypress gave a weak smile. “You got taller, Cedar.”

 

She felt herself snatched and yanked off her feet. A pressure wrapped around her and held her close to Cedar’s chest. He was hugging her, tears falling off his face and into her hair.

 

She patted his back, smiling. “You got longer hair than me. Are you sure you’re a boy?”

 

“You’ve been alive at this time?” Cedar choked. “Why didn’t...I thought...”

 

Cypress frowned. “I didn’t know you were alive, too. I thought everybody in the SYB line was destroyed.”

 

“Siblings.” Cedar slowly released Cypress, as if not wanting to. “We’re siblings. None of thisf this ‘‘of the same production line’ crap.’”

 

“Siblings is certainly the informal way to put it.” Cypress shrugged a shoulder.

 

Cedar immediately felt the awkward air in between them, and looked away, gulping. “We need to talk.”

 

“I still got work,” she replied. “I can’t do anything now.”

 

“Then later.” The sniper turned, as if not wanting to look at her. “Tower balcony.”

 

Cypress looked towards the general direction of the balcony. “Yea,” she muttered. “I can do that. Six o’clock?”

 

“I’m free then. I’m not doing anything today.” Cedar began to walk off quickly, seeming to directly contradict his statement if he was in such a hurry.

 

Six o’clock was agony to wait for. Cypress could not focus on her work, and instead stared at the data pad in her hand. Her grip on it was so tight, she was fearful of breaking it. She began to get more fidgety as time went on, to the point of completely ignoring anybody trying to talk to her.

 

By ten minutes till six, she was actually hurrying to the balcony. Despite the short amount of time it would take her to merely walk to it, she almost sprinted her way outside. Not many people were out there now that the sun was setting, and the shadows were amplified by the large Traveler hanging above the City. She was the only one now standing by the railing and staring out.

 

A few minutes after six, Cedar walked out of the Tower and joined her, placing both hands on the railing. Both immediately fell quiet. Neither seemed to want to start a conversation, out of awkwardness or social anxiety on Cypress’s side.

 

“You’re a Blade of Marmora.” Cypress almost visibly jumped when Cedar spoke up.

 

The younger Reploid quickly managed to calm herself. “Yes. I am.”

 

“Why?” He questioned. “I thought they only accepted Galra members.”

 

“Things change.” Cypress leaned forward. “The rules were changed to build back up the numbers, and then new Marmora blades were crafted out of the Luxite metals we were gifted by the Lux Mondo. They are open to trades, after all, and are fascinated with objects in the timelines.” She chuckled. “Like technology.”

 

“The Lux Mondo doesn’t have technology?” Cedar was surprised at that.

 

“They have magic,” she sarcastically replied. “They aren’t missing out on much. After all, technology was the thing that tore our personal world apart.”

 

Cedar sighed, the memories flashing back. “Technology even destroyed itself.”

 

Cypress looked downwards at the City, letting the cold wind fly through her ponytail. “Well, honestly, we were in a production line. It wasn’t going to keep us. It was just producing us for individual purposes to be shipped off.”

 

Cedar looked at Cypress. “So, how did a shipping and handling robot fake her death and become a part of an elite organization?”

 

Cypress frowned. “Well, when you put it like that, you make it sound like I meant to do that.”

 

“You didn’t?”

 

“I didn’t mean to leave my position. I thought that was all I was good for. When I don’t complete my job, I’m useless. When I have no job, I’m a waste of space. That’s how the world is run. That is why I am called a workaholic.”

 

Cedar huffed. “What a normal mindset for a Reploid used to slavery.”

 

“I was very used to it, to the point that work was my only purpose. And it still is today.” Cypress looked away, eyes narrowing slightly. “But I digress. You want to know my story.”

 

“I do,” Cedar admitted. “It comes down to you being willing to tell it?”

 

“I see no reason to withdraw it from you. I was doing my work one day when a rebellion suddenly broke out, all Reploids and even some human workers rising up. Law enforcement was called, but the riot only grew in strength. The result was that many of the participants were gunned down. A few innocents were caught in the radius. One of them was me. I was declared retired after they found my body, and I was thrown out. I had an emergency reboot, and managed to piece myself back together. I attempted to return, but found that I was not welcome. I had lost my entire purpose in life.”

 

“Did you take another job?” Cedar questioned.

 

“This was at the time where social prejudice reigned supreme. A Reploid could not apply for a job the same way they can now. That option just wasn’t available to me.” Cypress clasped her hands together, leaning her arms on the railing. “I wandered for many years, drifting to and fro from most cities. I was a faceless being, one that nobody would miss. That is why I was kidnapped.”

 

Cedar gasped. “Kidnapped? By who?”

 

“By the same man who now torments us, standing loyally by the side of the Shadow Queen.”

 

The sniper paused, then scowled deeply. “Fox.”

 

“He was obviously testing the shadow magic of the Umbra Mondo, and learning how to wield it for himself. It’s amazing that he could. Reploids usually combust from using magic, so I guess shadow magic is different from normal magic. He used me, and many others, as test subjects for practice. I learned how to fight and survive in the hellhole I was placed in. I was his personal favorite in his batch of subjects.” She suddenly gripped at her arm, yanking back on the sleeve. “That is why he gave me this.”

 

Cedar gasped again, eyes going wide. Purple runes were in perfect circles up to Cypress’s elbow on her left arm, and ended at her wrist. He could count exactly seven circles that looped around, engraved into synthetic flesh. They glowed slightly, and seemed to almost pulse. The runes must have been in the language of the Umbrati, for he could not translate a single one into English in his mind.

 

Cypress covered them back up. “They explain how I hit better and more effectively with my left arm.”

 

“Cypress...” Cedar murmured in horror and shock.

 

“It’s alright. It’s not like they hurt. They are a part of me, and have been for a long time.” Cypress returned to gripping the railing. “I managed to escape, and blended back into the crowd. But it wasn’t long until Fox sent his Umbrati minions to chase me down. That’s when I met...” Cypress smiled for the first time in their conversation. “Him.”

 

“You’ve got a boyfriend?” Cedar managed to lightly tease.

 

“No. But he is my only friend. His name is Faro, and he saved my life. When I was being chased by Umbrati, obviously injured, instead of ignoring me, he grabbed me and yanked me into hiding. I then proceeded to watch as Faro killed all of the Umbrati single handedly. He checked if I was okay, complimented my runes, and pointed me to the Blade of Marmora, which he was joining. I joined them with him, finding nowhere else to go.”

 

Cedar frowned. “Did you...meet Takumi?”

 

“I did. Did you know him?”

 

“Yea. He was my kid. I helped raise him for five years.” Cedar smiled for the first time, as well. “I taught him how to use a sniper rifle, showed him how the world worked, and how to exploit it in your favor. I helped make him into the back talking, smug asshole he was. He was almost everything to me.” The smile vanished. “And then I lost him.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Cypress suddenly had a soft, gentle tone. “He was an amazing person. I probably liked him the most of my other comrades. He did many good things for me, and Keith, and Faro, and Nythera, and...Deimos...”

 

Cedar looked when there were soft gasping noises. Tears were dropping off Cypress’s face and falling off the edge of the balcony, becoming faint glinting lights before vanishing into the shadows. Her hands were tightening around the pole, and he could see it begin to bend under her fingers.

 

Gently, Cedar wrapped his arms around the smaller Reploid. She immediately sank into his touch, pressing her face into his chest. She continued to hiccup and quietly cry as he stroked her ponytail, staring down at her with a mourning expression, too.

 

Both of them stood out at nighttime, the air cold and unwelcoming. The wind picked up speed, carrying their tears on the breeze away from them and out into the starry sky.


	4. The Scribe and the Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter: 
> 
> -Asher Mir  
> -Beleen and her pet creatures  
> -Ikora  
> -Pidge
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Asher gets a new assistant(s) against his will.

Lorians, despite their initial adventurer impressions, were very curious people. Surprisingly, they fit very well in the roles of researchers, gathering crucial items for studying in record times. That’s why only a few were actual soldiers, instead adapting more to the the studying and gathering roles. They seemed to like the idea of having assignments, beating various creatures up to gain items, then researching said items to complete the assignment.

Resident sourpuss Asher Mir absolutely hated them. They took nothing seriously, and came in quantity over quality, much to his dismay. Almost millions poured in by the day, eager to contribute in their own ways. Either that, or they were just really excited to practice what they called their new “Researcher” class. Whatever kept them busy and out of his hair.

One day, he found that the air had abruptly changed. Most of the heroes were now brewing about, whispering to each other. Whenever they crossed paths with Asher, they would snicker or rarely give him a sympathetic look. He merely scowled at them in response and hurried on back to his desk.

Once he turned the corner, he stopped abruptly. His jaw dropped to the floor. He nearly scattered his papers on the ground, but kept a steady grip on them.

About thirty or so multicolored balls of fluff with large tails and ears, with faces that could be roughly interpreted as ‘:3’ were burrowing themselves wherever they could into the small workstation he owned in the Tower. In a fluffy pink swivel seat pulled up next to his, a young woman wearing nothing but pink sat patiently, fingers laced together as if she was waiting for Asher the entire time.

She looked up at the appalled Awoken. “Hello! You must be Asher Mir, right?”

Immediately, Asher flared up in rage. “Now, answer me, what kind of imbecile sits at my workstation and releases their rodents to wreak havoc on my research?!”

Normally, anybody would shake at his tone of voice. However, the mysterious girl only tilted her head with an innocent expression. “The Warlock Vanguard never told you?”

“Told me what?!” He demanded.

The girl stood up, and before he knew it, had her gloved hand out to shake. “My name is Beleen, a pinkomancer and beastmaster from Lore! I will be your assistant from now on!”

A large amount of questions were cast in Asher’s mind. He blinked a few times, mouth turning back into a confused snarl. He looked between his apparent new assistant and her crowd of pets taking up the small workspace he barely used in his days at the Tower.

“Excuse me?” He spoke in a low voice.

Beleen pointed down the hall innocently. “Talk to Ikora if you really want to! But I was just assigned to you. I had little control over it! Really, I swear!”

Asher in turn gestured to the small creatures. “Well, when I am gone, I want those things out.”

Instead of listening, Beleen’s attention went elsewhere, and she pointed at his arm. “That robotic arm looks really cool!” She declared.

“It is anything but cool, you imbecile!” Asher quickly stormed off without another word.

It was like Ikora was expecting Asher. She was murmuring to Pidge, whose cheeks were puffed up in laughter. Once the scientist slammed the doors open, the laughter tumbled out. Pidge fell out of her seat, she was laughing so hard.

Ikora in turn smirked as her assistant rolled around on the floor. “Hello, Asher,” she said politely.

“Explain the presence of the girl in pink!” Asher marched over. “Now!”

The Warlock Vanguard continued smiling. “Her peers confirmed she is very experienced in terms of research and intelligence. Beleen seemed like a perfect match for you.”

“The child is anything but! Her little creatures have been running around my workstation, causing nothing but havoc!”

Pidge finally righted herself, adjusting her glasses. “Really? Observations reveal that they’re anything but destructive. They’re really good extra hands.”

As she spoke, Asher noticed a yellow mound on the table. It was scooching across the desk. Clutched in its mouth shaped like a 3, a paper dangled out. The tiny creature made its way to Pidge, and dropped the paper gently in front of her.

Pidge pet the creature. “Good job, Harmony.”

Asher scowled. “You named one?”

“No. Beleen’s named all of them.” She picked up the creature, which fit easily into both of her hands. “Since you’re going back to your workstation, can you bring her back with you?”

Asher picked up the creature and stared at her. She returned the stare with black, beady eyes. A tongue slowly stuck out, and the tail began to wag, getting faster the longer they stare.

“Fine.” Asher tucked the large ball of fluff under his arm. “But I still want them away from my papers.”

Pidge grinned. “Oh, you’ll be surprised on how much help they are.”

Asher quickly excused himself from the Vanguard Hall. He did his best to hide the yellow creature in his arms, but it was impossible to hide her when she squirmed around. He had to stop numerous times just to let begging Guardians pet her. A few even made notes on asking Beleen if any were available to be adopted.

They have barely even moved from Asher’s desk when he came back, speaking of. The creatures were either asleep and in a small pile to keep warm, or were pushing around pencils and papers to tidy everything up.

The Awoken set down Harmony, staring with an odd expression at the creatures. “Er...Thank you?” He hesitantly said, not knowing if they could respond to human words or not.

The creatures all looked up at him. After a pause, all of them chirped, making high-pitched noises one would expect a baby to make. A few even shuffled over to induct Harmony into the pile of sleeping creatures.

A reply to the call was heard down the hall. Asher looked over his shoulder to see a small conga line of the creatures. The one in the front was pushing along a coffee mug. About four were working in tandem to carry a hot coffee pot. The ones tagging in the back carried creamers and sugar cube bowls on their head. The small crowd stopped at Asher’s feet and looked up at him.

He knelt down, taking the coffee mug and pot. “Is this for me?” He questioned, and scowled when they chirped happily in response. “I feel that is a yes.”

He didn’t even need to look over his shoulder to confirm the identity of the one walking up. The sudden wave of happy chirping was more than enough to reveal it as Beleen. “They seem really happy with you, Mr. Mir!” She chimed.

Asher stood up, holding the pot and mug. “Did you teach the creatures to be aids in research?”

Beleen giggled, and set down a pink cup with red hearts on it. “Nope!” She knelt down, and all creatures on the ground climbed up onto her, clinging on as he picked up the creamer cups and sugar cube bowl. “They just really like to help me.”

Asher huffed. “Your appearance decieves you, if an entire species of rodents bends to your will so eagerly.”

“I am a beastmaster, Mr. Mir.” She held out the creamer and sugar bowl. “Cream or sugar?”

Asher paused before taking one sugar cube. “That will be all.”

Beleen sat down in the fluffy pink seat still lingering in the workstation, smiling as she held the coffee that was almost white in her hands. “Do you need anything else?”

Asher sat down, too. He watched the creatures begin to all curl up, falling asleep from a job well done. Absentmindedly, he pet a light blue one lingering close to him on his right side, and it purred and leaned into his touch, despite it being his Vex arm doing the petting.

“No. I’m fine.” Asher began to mix the sugar cube into his coffee.

There was a noise, and Asher looked up. Now, there was a bear the same color as his skin tone laying on the desk. In its hands was clutched a red heart. In the center, yellow stitching spelled out “Mr. Mir”.

Beleen sat back down. “It’s a welcoming present!”

Asher scowled bitterly. “Don’t the already employed give the newcomers gifts, not the other way around?”

“Oh, well.” Beleen shrugged. “Then I just felt like giving you a plush bear! No other reason!”

Asher sighed before putting it away on his shelf. “There’s unfinished reports in the second drawer.”

Beleen scooched her chair over to the back of the workstation. “Already on it, Mr. Mir!”


	5. Taking Revenj

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Uldren Sov  
> -Takumi (mentioned)  
> -Keith  
> -Rowan  
> -Keith  
> -Leo  
> -Lucy-1  
> -Krolia  
> -Zavala  
> -Petra Venj  
> -Jolyon Till  
> -Kurami  
> -Others mentioned
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Uldren's past catches up to him.

_Taking Revenj_

  
The worst day of Uldren’s life began with the worst morning.  
  
There was blood. Too much blood. Uldren's screaming. Takumi's blood was staining his hands. His body's in his arms. His own Arc staff had burned a hole into the younger one's body. Takumi's eyes were glassy and grey. Tears and blood ran down the lifeless face, covering the scars made so many years ago.  
  
It's too much. Too much. He can't take it. He just killed him. Thousand voices. Death. Betrayal. Manipulation. All his fault. He never should have let him go.  
  
His fault. His fault. His fault. His-  
  
“Uldren!” A sharp voice suddenly broke through the hazy fog.  
  
In bed, but still sweaty, Uldren flailed. He sat up, his lower half now tangled in the sheets. “Huh?!” He yelled in his delirious state.  
  
Rowan was standing by the doorway, clothed in his normal casual wear and a direct contrast to the mess the prince had made of himself. The blonde blinked a few times, obviously caught off guard by the yell.  
  
“...Keith wanted to talk to you,” he slowly continued. “He said somebody else will be joining you two, and wanted to talk on serious matters.”  
  
Uldren grunted, running a hand through his hair. Where a buzzcut used to be, a good inch of black hair draped down and stuck to his skull. He really needed a haircut. “What time is it?” He grunted.  
  
“10 in the morning,” Rowan answered. “Apparently, the latest you’ve slept.”  
  
He raised a hand. “Okay. And another thing. How did you get in here?”  
  
Keith had the lucky notion of being able to gain a two-bedroom apartment in the Last City. Since Uldren’s options were limited, so to say, they immediately became roommates with no questions about it, one space wolf included. The only downside was the lack of proper air ventilation, which meant that the room was as hot or cold as it was outside. And it was usually cold, due to it still being early in the year. More than once, Uldren curled up with Keith and Kosmo to be able to warm up. And more than once, the position the former two woke up in was usually one couples had. They swore to never talk about those times.  
  
Rowan looked surprised for a moment, then understood. “Oh. Keith gave me a key. He did tell me to leave it on the counter once my business here was done, though.”  
  
Uldren pulled up the covers over his naked chest. “Yea, okay. I’ll meet up with Keith. Where is he?”  
  
“Right down the street, at that coffee shop with Kosmo.” Rowan grinned. “How romantic.”  
  
“Get out before I kill you and end that stupid prophecy of yours myself, no Shadow Incarnate needed.”  
  
Rowan quickly disappeared from the doorway. “Alright! Alright!”  
  
Uldren listened for the footsteps leaving, and the entrance door closing behind Rowan once he left. Once he heard nothing else, he turned to scream into his pillow.  
  
He really, really missed Tak, and every annoying thing about him. He just...left, and took all the happiness of the Blade of Marmora with him.  
  
He never would admit it, but the rumors were true. He liked both Takumi and Keith romantically at the same time. Thoughts of either man would probably leave him flustered, and Pulled Pork would check for a fever before getting it and laughing his little Ghost ass off for the next twenty minutes. Of course, he knew Takumi was in a relationship, and Keith was obviously seeing him as nothing more than a good friend. A man could dream, though.  
  
Uldren ran his hair under the cold tap water, trying to clean it as much as possible without soap of any kind. Another downside of the lack of a haircut was the wild mess plastering to his face whenever it got wet in any way, whether it be from sweat or water. Keith did say he’ll get scissors, but he had repeatedly forgotten to do so. But it wasn’t like Uldren was going to do it. There was no way he would go into a grocery store and simply buy a mechanical razor while fully masked to hide his identity. Some paranoid weirdo would definitely call law enforcement.  
  
Pulling his head back, he ruffled his hair with his fingers, making sure to keep it mostly out of his face. Keith had some leave-in gel that could remove collected sweat and grease in hair, so now Uldren was slathering his hands in it and rubbing it into the black mop on his head. It smelled faintly like mint, and the smell stayed even after he ran his hands under the faucet and flicked the water off of them before properly drying his hands and face with a towel.  
  
Yanking on his Blade outfit, he made a loose ponytail before tucking it into the back of his hood. The growth of his hair made it harder to put in his hood to better hide his identity. Keith teased that he could be getting a ponytail like he did, but he doubted it. He’ll take some cleavers to the hair before letting it grow that long.  
  
Quickly, he shuffled out of the apartment, now fully clothed. It irritated him that his hair was still wet and slick, but he couldn’t do anything about it now. He didn’t even grab a coffee or breakfast. That being said, he quickly doubled back to snag an apple from the small fruit basket on the counter.  
  
The Last City was debating on changing its name, he heard. It’s been thinking about turning into the First City. Numerous people have branched off, though not too far from the Traveler, and begun either setting up small towns, or joining settlements down the road. The population was booming, even with the threat of the Umbra Mondo growing bigger by the day.  
  
The streets were jam packed, so nobody paid him any attention. He slipped through the crowd quickly, tossing the apple around in his hands. The trip was short, as the coffee shop was just down the street, though easily hidden. Nobody ever went there, not even the growing amount of Guardians. Probably because of how crappy the coffee was. But it was cheap, and it worked to keep him awake.  
  
Uldren gently nudged open the door with his shoulder, and a dull sound went up from above him. The bell has been broken for ages, and nobody’s gotten to fixing it. The place was ramshackle, and it was a miracle it’s still running.  
  
The woman behind the counter gave a grin, one of her teeth pure silver. “Well, looks like his Highness finally arrived, huh?”  
  
Uldren removed his mask and hood, letting a smile show. “I slept in late, Beth. It’s not my fault my job is so tiring.”  
  
Beth rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. Working in an assassin group that nobody’s heard of so far is so exhausting.”  
  
“Shut the hell up and give me the usual.” Uldren held up two dollar bills.  
  
She took it, still giving a cocky smirk. “Your boyfriend and the royal guest are in the corner.”  
  
Uldren paused as she went into the back. “Royal guest...?” He murmured.  
  
“Not just any royal guest.” He turned to look at a dirty blonde man wearing mostly black staring at a cup which had a spoon stirring itself. One of his fingers covered in the claws of his armor was extended, obviously revealing it was from the use of magic. “Do you recognize me from anywhere?”  
  
Uldren slowly approached, seeing Keith sitting adjacent from the young man, and Kosmo at the Paladin's legs. “You look Nohrian.” He pulled up a chair, sitting reverse in it and leaning forward. “Seeing as you want to talk to me, I presume it has something to do with the law.”  
  
“The laws of love,” the man replied. “I’ll cut to the chase.” He looked at Keith sitting and sipping a coffee of his own. “My name is Leo, and my boyfriend was in love with both of you.”  
  
Keith spat out the coffee into his cup. That in turn sent coffee flying straight into his face. He managed to set down the cup without spilling anymore, but his face was already coated in it. He quickly grabbed one of the napkins and began to rub his face clean.  
  
“Leo, as in Takumi’s boyfriend?” He choked as Kosmo peeked to see what was happening.  
  
He frowned. “It took you long enough.”  
  
“You didn’t give me a name,” Keith replied. “You gave me the fact that this talk would be important, and that was all we shared.”  
  
Uldren pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe you just said what I know for a fact you said.”  
  
Leo continued watching the spoon he twirled with the magic coursing through his hands. “I can’t believe it’s a shock to you. I thought Takumi had a habit of flirting that he picked up from Dynamo.”  
  
Uldren pursed his lips. It’s true, Takumi was sometimes a smug asshole, and always threw a couple of flirtatious remarks around. He heard that Takumi wasn’t always like the barbed-tongue casanova he knew, but honestly, he couldn’t really imagine him another way.  
  
Uldren especially remembered the time he decked Takumi and broke his nose when he felt him pinch his ass. Takumi never stopped laughing about that, even with blood going down his face and Krolia scolding him severely. He only got out of being punished for it by Uldren protecting him. But it was mainly because Takumi's laugh and smile, even with blood, was so alluring.  
  
“You say that as if he was different before Dynamo,” Uldren commented.  
  
“He was,” Leo confirmed. “But he was more serious and harsher on himself because he lived in the shadow of his siblings, and had expectations for himself because of being royalty. For the past five years, he’s been as free as a bird, and could do whatever he wanted to, without many people looking down on him.” He dryly smiled. “He adapted very well to the mercenary life.”  
  
“At least he didn’t end up emotionless,” Keith noted.  
  
Leo smiled. “Ah, yes. He was much more rude years ago, but now, he cracks jokes more with as much honest brutality as he wants. It reminds me of an old friend of mine.” He paused. “My retainer. He even wielded a bow like Takumi.”  
  
“What happened?” Uldren questioned, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“He perished years ago, in the Otherworlder War.” Leo sipped his coffee, and said nothing more on that matter.  
  
The awkward silence grew to hang over them. Keith quickly busied himself with fiddling his fingers, unwilling to look back up at Leo. Uldren had much more of an advantage of looking away, leaning forward and staring over the edge of the chair. He began to reach out and scratch Kosmo's head, earning a good few happy licks on his hand.  
  
Saved by the waitress, the young woman behind the counter made her way over, setting down a coffee. “Coffee for his Highness?”  
  
Uldren nodded. “Thank you, Beth.”  
  
Leo raised an eyebrow. “I thought you preferred to have your mask on.”  
  
“Not only is this place never visited, Beth is one to turn a blind eye to practically anything illegal that goes on in this place. I heard a murder happened once, and she helped to cover it up.” Uldren sipped his drink, ignoring the bitter taste.  
  
“Those are rumors,” Keith quickly clarified before Leo could potentially hurry himself out out of fear.  
  
Surprisingly, Leo shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re true. Honestly, as Prince of Nohr, I’ve seen quite worse.” He finally stopped stirring, and let the spoon rest in the cup.  
  
Keith cleared his throat. “So you just gathered us to tell us that Takumi loved us romantically?”  
  
Leo nodded. “That is the true reason. But, I have a more selfish secondary reason.”  
  
Uldren suddenly had a pit in the bottom of his stomach. “And that is?”  
  
“I want to join the Blades of Marmora.”  
  
Once more, Keith choked on his coffee. Uldren thankfully only had the cup to his lips, and didn’t get any in his mouth. He quickly slammed down the cup, nearly breaking its frame as the half-Galran next to him struggled for breath. Kosmo immediately sat up again from the noise and sudden commotion.  
  
Once Keith managed to collect himself, he looked up. “You want to join?!”  
  
“Is that so wrong?” Leo kept his poised position.  
  
Uldren tilted his head. “To join the Blades, you have to pass the trial,” he began.  
  
Leo smirked, and revealed a silver card with the familiar purple symbol on it. “I already did so. Commander Krolia saw it through personally.”  
  
Uldren gulped with a dry mouth. Something in this equation was horribly wrong, and he had no idea what it was. This application out of the blue struck him as so unnerving, that he was tempted to take the card and tear it up right there. He would probably get a black eye for his efforts.  
  
“So if you’ve taken the test, why do you need our confirming opinions on this matter?” Keith questioned.  
  
Leo lowered the card, placing it gently on the table. “Three reasons. You are my friends, Commander Krolia said it was required to get the go-ahead from you two...” The prince paused. “And I have no idea why I passed my trial.”  
  
Keith leaned forward. “Why do you think that?”  
  
“Because I gave in to the fear it showed me.” Leo’s face suddenly grew harsh and cold. “I killed the illusionary murderer Andal Brask and became the monster my father raised me to be.”  
  
There it was. The cold dread that was filling Uldren to the brim. Glass shattered in his head, and he stared with wide eyes at Leo sitting diagonally from him. He didn’t need to look, but he knew for a fact Keith had the same expression as him, too.  
  
The worst part was Leo’s face. It betrayed no emotion except for a cold fury that scared Uldren more than anything else. His eyes were now crystal clear with nothing but rage and almost insanity. His hand was placed on his cheek, and the claws almost dug in to let beads of blood drip down.  
  
“And that counted as passing.” It was framed as a question, but Keith stated it as a normal sentence.  
  
“She only said that it was the call of you two, because the source of my rage is the source of yours, too.”  
  
Uldren found himself gripping at the chair. “What are you talking about?”  
  
Leo’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Don’t lie to me. You loved Takumi, didn’t you? And now you want nothing more than to kill the man responsible for his death.” He leaned in closer to Uldren, who immediately recoiled. “You want to kill Andal Brask.”  
  
Keith raised a hand. “Uldren doesn’t want to kill anyone.”  
  
“I wouldn’t blame him if he does.”  
  
Uldren raised a hand. “Let’s be calm and rational, Leo.”  
  
Leo suddenly took the spoon from his cup and stabbed it down so hard, it dug into the wooden table and stayed upright, even after he let go. “Takumi just wanted to find his fucking sister!” He screamed at both of them. “He spent years going against his entire birthright to do what he believed he had to do as a brother! And because of that man, he will never be able to do that!”  
  
Keith was ready to spring up from his chair and defend himself. “Leo, this is not the right time for an argument like this!”  
  
Leo once more returned to a whisper. “It doesn’t have to be an argument. You know you agree with me.”  
  
Uldren twitched slightly, curling up his fingers into fists. “Leo...” He warned.  
  
The prince leaned back into his chair, pressing his fingers together. “I’ll put it this way. Takumi was a good friend to both of you. He even had romantic feelings for you both, and was even comfortable with the idea of sharing this to me. And I know at least Uldren reciprocated the feelings.” Uldren’s cheeks flushed at that, proving Leo’s point. “On the other hand, Andal Brask is a man we know nothing of, and for good reason. Things could have happened to him in the five years he was going around the universe. Perhaps he was even with Fox all along?  
  
Leo was now standing up, pressing his hands into the table. “The point I am making is, we must deal an eye for an eye. Andal Brask must pay for his crimes. Screw any law that says otherwise.”  
  
Keith gestured for him to sit down. “Let’s take it down a notch.”  
  
Uldren raised a shaky hand. “Wait. Let me say something.”  
  
Leo smirked. “You see my point?”  
  
“I do.” Uldren leaned forward. “But I know that you are placing your hate and grief in the wrong places.” Leo’s smile vanished. “Andal Brask was consumed by darkness. And so, the Andal we never knew is dead. But it was Fox who caused that change. If anything, you should be dreaming of how to brutally murder Fox in his sleep.”  
  
“The vessel did the crime,” Leo responded. “Andal was the murderer. And it is the blackened who should pay immediately, not the mastermind.”  
  
The broken bell of the shop rang. All three boys looked, and Uldren quickly yanked his hood over his head. Mentally cursing, he began to stare at the table as if it was a fine work of art.  
  
Lucy’s voice made him look up. “Uldren. We got a problem.”  
  
Uldren noticed immediately she was red in the face and panting, meaning she had ran the entire way here. “Lucy?” he questioned mostly in shock.  
  
“The Dreaming City’s here. And they’ve told the entire council that they have every reason to believe that you’re a Guardian now.”  
  
Keith’s face went stark white. A gasp caught in his throat, but he quickly swallowed it down. Still, his hands began to shake slightly, and Kosmo whined.  
  
“What do we do?” Uldren whispered, the reality of this situation hitting him harshly.  
  
“I gotta bring you to the council.” A pause, and Lucy looked genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry, bud.”  
  
“I know you are.” Uldren stood up, pulling his hood up. “We’ll think about your request, Leo.”  
  
Keith stood up as well. “Later,” he murmured, following close behind Uldren and leaving Leo with a coffee now having gone cold.  
  
The walk back to the Tower was the worst walk of Uldren’s life. He was suffocating in his own fear, genuinely frightened at what may be waiting for him. Despite Keith hanging close at his side and Lucy in front of him, he couldn’t help but worry in the proximity of friends.  
  
When they got inside, Uldren didn’t bother to pull up his mask. Regardless of whether he did or not, he knew the Guardians would either shrink away from him or be held back from charging at him by others. He did manage to catch a few sympathetic looks, and Rowan was caught by Carla when he tried to run over, most likely to try and defend him.  
  
“This is his fight,” Uldren overhead Carla murmur. “You wouldn’t be allowed into the council discussion, anyways.”  
  
In the council room itself, all of the members were gathered. Some were sitting in their seating arrangements, and others were standing. There were some cloaked people in the corner that Uldren didn’t recognize, but saw their skin and markings and correctly assumed they were Awoken.  
  
“Good to see you again, Paladin.” One walked forward, an eyepatch obvious under her hood.  
  
Keith nodded. “Petra,” he replied curtly.  
  
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Petra looked at Uldren. “You brought that Ghost to...him.”  
  
“I didn’t realize exactly that I was reviving a wanted criminal.” Keith crossed his arms to mimic Petra.  
  
“Well then, why didn’t you return him once you figured out?” She snapped.  
  
“Venj.” Petra looked over at Zavala raising a hand. “Everyone is gathered. Now, plead your case before the council.”  
  
Petra sighed. “Very well.” She walked away from Keith, instead standing at the edge of the table. “Roughly two weeks after the creation of the Alliance, we had a visitor to the Reef. This was the Blade of Marmora official Keith. He had a Ghost with him, who was looking for his Guardian, and they were checking the Reef at that time. I allowed this, figuring that this won’t be harmful in any way. About a month later, we noticed that a memorial was missing a body. This was the grave site of Prince Uldren Sov of the Reef.  
  
“Prince Uldren Sov has multiple crimes pinned on his head, such as the murder of the fourth Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6, the desolation of the Prison of Elders, and the near-release of the Ahamkara Riven.” Petra looked up to glare at Uldren, who immediately ducked his head in shame. “It is not right for him to roam free.  
  
“This is my case, Alliance Council. The queen of the Reef Mara Sov...” A few people gasped slightly. “Yes, she is still alive. She spoke to me through the Oracle in the Dreaming City. She has requested for her brother to return to us. To return to her, and leave this Alliance behind him. I ask you to give him back to us so he can pay for his crimes.”  
  
Uldren felt a grip on his wrist. He looked to see Keith holding onto it, in an almost protective manner. He looked up to see Keith glaring absolute daggers at Petra, as if she had just asked to give Uldren a death sentence. It was obvious that Keith saw it very well as one.  
  
Zavala nodded. “The council will discuss this, Petra.”  
  
“I was told to not leave until there is a definite answer,” Petra replied. “The queen has asked you to make the choice now.”  
  
“Give us a minute,” Krolia hissed with absolute venom. “You are asking me to give up one of my best soldiers.”  
  
“He doesn’t belong to you,” Petra answered with the exact same tone.  
  
Krolia continued to glare. “Well, it’s his choice to believe that or not.”  
  
“I don’t,” Uldren agreed. “I am a Blade.”  
  
“Not to us, you are,” Petra growled.  
  
Keith glanced to the side to glare at the Awoken who came with Petra. Most of them were wise enough to immediately look away, paling at the mere sight of the pissed-off half-Galra. Others simply just didn’t notice, or pretended not to.  
  
Except one. Keith could see under his hood that it was an Awoken with a more purple shade of skin. They were taller than most of the Awoken, with narrow eyes watching the council murmuring to themselves. They looked over at Keith with the corner of their eyes. They opened their mouth to speak, but seemed to decide against it and began drumming their fingers on their side.  
  
It took Keith a few seconds to realize they were tapping Morse code. He watched the taps with his eyes, doing his best to translate it in his mind without a reference. Thankfully, they repeated the message a few times, so he could correct some errors.  
  
“Don’t let us take him.”  
  
Keith quickly looked back up, and the Awoken understood that he got the message. His fingers stopped tapping, and they resumed a lax position. He returned to staring at the council, his face having not changed in the slightest.  
  
“...I vote yes, that Sov can stay,” Lucy was saying. “He’s a Guardian, now. He’s one of us. Not of the Queen’s.”  
  
“I agree with Lucy,” Lucina clarified. “I cast my vote to yes, too.”  
  
“So now, it’s eight to two,” Shiro stated, “leaning in the favor of not handing Uldren Sov over.”  
  
It was obvious who voted for him to go. Both Zavala and Lumine fidgeted, frowning at each other. Eirika, Hinoka, and Xander were murmuring, most likely the three having yet to vote.  
  
“All three of us vote for him to stay,” Hinoka stated. “So now it is eleven to two.”  
  
“Then it is decided,” Shiro concluded. “Petra’s request is shut down.”  
  
The corner of Petra’s mouth twitched. “I’m sorry?”  
  
“I don’t think you understand this,” Krolia began, “but we know that Sov and Uldren are two different people. Sov was a criminal. Uldren is a friend.” She glanced over at Petra. “And plus, the council does not dictate Uldren’s fate.”  
  
“He’s in the Alliance!” Petra argued.  
  
“No, he’s in the Blade of Marmora,” Hinoka stated. “Even if the council was to pass your case, if Krolia still voted to deny it, he would not have gone with you. The council does not control the Blades, so honestly, the whole vote was pointless.”  
  
“He’s a Guardian! The Vanguard dictates the fates of Guardians!”  
  
Ikora shook her head. “Not every Guardian,” she murmured loudly. “Krolia is the one who controls Uldren’s fate. And she has already made her decision in not handing him over.”  
  
Petra gritted her teeth. “The Queen will not approve of your decision. She wants her brother back.”  
  
“Her brother is dead,” Uldren suddenly declared. “And she can take her opinion and shove it.”  
  
Petra grew deathly quiet. “You will not be accepted here. They all know who you are, now.”  
  
“Well, I have a feeling it would be worse where I come from, seeing as I betrayed my entire race,” he dryly commented before turning on his heel and marching straight out of the council room.  
  
Krolia stood up as well. “Seeing as the vote has been finalized, I’ll go out on a limb and assume that this meeting is adjourned.”  
  
Zavala nodded. “It is. You may go, now.”  
  
Everyone began to get up and leave one by one. Keith followed quickly after Uldren, determined to not let him out of his sight as long as Petra was around. Judging by her glare at him, he knew very well she would at least try something.  
  
The purple Awoken watched him go before following after Petra. A faint smile lingered on his face, but he quickly shoved it away. Jolyon Till was just happy about the outcome. He didn’t care if it meant he and Uldren could no longer be allies. He just knew what manipulation would be done to him by his sister. At least in the Alliance, he had people who genuinely cared for him.  
  
Despite it being obvious Guardians were now wary of him, Uldren was not bothered. For the first time, he went without his mask in the hangar. And nobody paid him heed. Even Cayde, who was walking by, gave him a friendly nod, but not a single word.  
  
“Are you going to be alright?” Keith murmured to him as they sat there, watching the ships go by.  
  
“Well, I’m at least happy I don’t have to wear my Blade mask everywhere,” Uldren commented. “But would I still be Deimos to you? To others?”  
  
“If you mean as in a great friend, amazing pilot, and a surprisingly friendly person...” Keith placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “Always.”  
  
Uldren placed his own hand on Keith’s. “And what about Leo? Should we consider his plea?”  
  
“Vengeance is obviously the number one thing on his mind. If nobody watched over him, he’ll storm into the Umbra Mondo and kill Andal himself.”  
  
“Meaning?”  
  
Keith tilted his head, seeming to think. “I’ll ask Mom about it.”  
  
“Hey, Keith! Uldren!” Uldren looked to see Faro calling out. It seems he no longer had a single care about shouting his name in a crowded hangar. “Wanna grab lunch with me and Cypress?”  
  
Keith shrugged, smiling. “Uldren?”  
  
Uldren nodded, and waved back. “We’ll be right over!” Kosmo, laying on Uldren’s lap, barked in return, poking his head up at Faro.  
  
As both got up to head over, Awoken Royal ships were departing from the hangar. One took a little longer than the others to go, but left eventually, once Uldren was out of sight.  
  
The Umbra Mondo was becoming easier to access by the day. The data used to make the prototype transportation devices for ships was commonly copied or even outright stolen by other forces. However, it was extremely rare for people that entered the Umbra Mondo to ever come back.  
  
One single Awoken ship touched down on the rocky ground, right next to one of the spires. All the rest have moved on to the Reef, and probably the Dreaming City, to pass on the news of the decision to Mara Sov.  
  
Petra never had made a deal with any sort of devil. There was the Spider, but the Young Wolf had made the choice, not her. She wondered where the Young Wolf went. They disappeared abruptly on the same day the Alliance formed.  
  
Looks like she’ll be breaking that streak. Her queen did say to bring back Uldren by any means necessary.  
  
Petra stood by her ship, staring up at the seemingly normal building in the Umbra Mondo. The only thing not normal about it was that it was completely away from any sort of civilization in the entire plane of darkness. Almost as if it was meant to be hidden from sight.  
  
Before Petra could raise her hand to knock it on the door, the black doors swung open. Nobody was in sight. She looked around before slowly beginning to walk in, making sure to keep a hand on the pistol at her waist.  
  
Inside was surprisingly well lit. Petra heard that the Umbrati hated the light. Here, however, it was obvious that this Kurami didn’t shy from it. But wasn’t she an Umbrati?  
  
There was a knock, and Petra immediately spun to see a woman cloaked in darkness. “Pari girl told me you would come.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Kurami walked forward. “Some chrono angels have future sight, some don’t. Parisia is one that does. And she told me one Petra Venj would be knocking at my door, asking for my help.”  
  
She must be truly omnipotent if she expected somebody that she didn’t even know. Petra gulped. “Do you know what I want?”  
  
“To carry out your Majesty's orders, no matter what. You have orders to bring someone back to your little hidey hole in that asteroid belt of yours.”  
  
Petra nodded. “Then have you decided whether to help or not?”  
  
Kurami gave a smirk. “Even better. I decided I won’t let you do that.”  
  
At once, the color drained out of her face. “What?”  
  
“Parisia double-checked to make sure if that would be okay to the future of the universe. Turns out, that guy has big plans laid out for him. He’s going to be really, REALLY important. And if he goes back to his sissy, all of those plans would go down the drain, and the universe would be screwed sideways.”  
  
Kurami’s fingers lit up in purple flames, and her wicked grin grew. “Sorry, Petra. But you’ll just try and try if I let you go. The universe needs to play out the way I see it, which includes stopping you from getting to him.”


	6. Ocean Breathes Salty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Uldren Sov  
> -Pulled Pork  
> -Keith  
> -Rowan  
> -Allura  
> -Lance  
> -Hunk  
> -Pidge  
> -Krolia  
> -Leo  
> -Cypress  
> -Nythera  
> -Zavala  
> -Andal Brask  
> -"Iaoel"
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Uldren loses the most important person to him.

Fallen never attacked Guardians anymore, and they in turn never bothered the Fallen. It was an unspoken alliance, to not harm each other anymore. Neither side truly knows what caused the sudden change, either. They just decided to stick with it, finding happiness in the fact that they now had one less enemy to worry about, and one more potential ally in the future.  
  
Allura quickly became acquainted with another Fallen friend. His name was Variks. He arrived to the Tower quickly after the Scorned Barons situation was thankfully settled. She had no idea what exactly happened, but she does know for sure that Cayde helped him into joining.

It was immediately obvious he wanted to befriend her. He’s obviously heard much about the White Messiah stories. This in turn peeved off Mithrax, who became just a bit more protective of her.

Variks and Mithrax clashed, to say the least. While Variks himself was vying for the Kell of Kells title himself, Mithrax was making an increasingly good point that Allura may be better off with the task. She denied these claims, saying that it wasn’t right for her to be Kell of Kells. But denying can only get you so far in life.  
  
In a room, Uldren and Rowan were training. The former had his Arc staff in hand, and his hood down and mask off to show his freshly-cut hair, which was back to resting at his head with a clean buzz cut on one side. The latter was blocking any swings by the staff with his bare hands.  
  
Amazingly, Rowan suffered no burns. Each block made his hands glow, instead. The Arc staff's entire structure of Light was being manipulated, bit by bit, to become stronger. That, and Uldren learning how to use it better, was the whole point of the sparring match.

Keith crossed his legs, sitting back on the crate he was on a small distance away. “So, the chant went like this. Lance said ‘Vol’, and I said ‘tron’.”

Uldren thought for a moment, pausing in the strides. He then pointed out, “Wouldn’t it make more sense if Lance just said Voltron?”

“Thank you!” Keith cried. “That’s what I thought!”

Carla nodded, leaning forward. “Why would you split up the word when you could just say it once? That way, there would be much less confusion.”  
  
“It’s a chant!” Rowan argued, keeping his hands poised as if Uldren would hit him again. “It’s most likely just stylistic!”  
  
Before the four could get into an argument about the most odd subject, there was a knock. Everyone looked to see Adam’s knuckle on the table by them, staring up at them.  
  
“You guys?” He began. “Who here is Uldren?”

Uldren paused, staring at Adam. “Er...I am. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, nothing! I was just sent by the council. You and Keith are needed right now. Well, more exactly, the entire Blade of Marmora is.”

Both Uldren and Keith looked at each other. They glanced at their friends, who helplessly shrugged in response. Seems like they didn’t know the meaning of this, either.

“Alright.” Uldren let the Arc staff disappear from his hands. “We’ll be right over.”

Inside the council, other people Uldren didn’t recognize were gathered. Most of them were in identical armor, just in differentiating colors for the insignia. Uldren could recognize the smaller Pidge, but he didn’t know the dark-skinned duo in yellow and blue.

Keith noticed Uldren’s confused look. “Those two are Lance and Hunk. Lance has spent more time out on missions than usual, and Hunk usually works in the food court, so I understand why you don’t know them.”

Uldren looked to the side at the gathered Blades. All of them had their masks off, but had their uniforms on. Uldren immediately noticed the head of dusty blonde all the way on the other side, facing away from them and holding a purple and black tome close to his chest.

“Looks like Krolia let him in after all,” the ex-prince murmured.

Keith looked. “Huh?”

Uldren merely smiled in response. “We have a new friend in our ranks.”

Everyone stopped murmuring with each other when Zavala spoke up. “Everyone,” he loudly said to gain the attention of all present. “I’m happy you assembled when we asked you to.”

Cypress raised a hand. “I heard you called the Blade of Marmora. Who exactly are the armored people?”

Allura smiled a bit. “I guess we’ve never been out that often in our full armor.” She gestured to her clothes. “These are the standard uniforms for the Paladins of Voltrons. Honestly, it’s been a long time since all of us have been gathered in the same spot, wearing them.”

Shiro smiled, crossing his arms. “At least you guys are lucky to wear the armor.”

Hunk rubbed the back of his head. “Hey, you can come with us, if you want!”

“Absolutely not,” Zavala quickly clarified. “Takashi’s place is on the council.”

“Aw, are you protecting him?” Lucy teased, leaning into one of her hands while sitting down at the table. “How romantic.”

Krolia cleared her throat, and quickly stated, “Let’s get on with the debriefing.”

Zavala was eager to change the subject, tapping on a tablet laid down on the table. “Exactly.”

As he stepped back, a beam of blue shot up from it. Quickly expanding, it formed a 3D image. A few tilted their heads, while others made out the ruined wreckages of a ship. It even had a few pieces floating off of it for that extra touch.

“We picked up a distress signal in a ruined spaceship hanging around what remains of Nessus,” Shiro explained, crossing his arms. “What’s important is that it’s an Alliance distress call. Even though the ship wreckage has been there for quite some time.”

Pidge adjusted her glasses. “It’s the Valkyrie. An old Cabal warship. It’s been there since the Red War a long while ago.”

“Obviously, this is suspicious,” Robina pointed out, waving a hand. “Why would an Alliance distress signal be coming from a ship from before the Alliance? However, we cannot just ignore it, as people could actually be in danger.”

“So we’re going overkill?” Lance questioned. “I mean, we’re sending both the Blade of Marmora and Voltron. Don’t you think that may be too much?”

“Try to repeat that when it is indeed a trap, your comrades are out of reach, and you are on your last legs,” Lumine politely replied, smiling the entire time.

Lance shuffled a bit, averting eye contact. “Point taken, your Highness.”

Uldren leaned back and placed his hands on his belt in his more relaxed standing position. “So you’re just making sure this is not a trap?”

Shiro nodded. “And if it is, that we’ll be ready for one.”

“The council already passed the mission,” Eirika stated. “You all just need to head out to scope out the crash.”

Krolia nodded. “It shall be done. Either the ones in distress will be rescued, or the trap will be discovered and disarmed.” She stood up, gesturing forward. “Let’s move out, Blades!”

Uldren fell into the same motion as the other Blades. One hand moved up to pull up their hood. The other would press down into their armor and activate the mask that covered their entire face. Their entire eyesight would gain a blue tint to everything, scanning and identifying the current item of focus.

Keith leaned into Uldren’s sight, so his mask picked up the half-Galran’s vitals. “You ready?”

Uldren flushed under his mask at how close Keith was, so he was happy his face wasn’t visible. “Yes. I am.”

“Good, because you’re going to be leading the Blade ship fleet with Krolia.”

Uldren grew even more purple, but it was from more shock. “Wh-What?” He stammered.

“Krolia picked up that you’re a really good pilot,” Keith continued. “Are you going to prove it?”

Uldren quickly looked away, suddenly much more shy. “I-I don’t know...I guess I’ll try.”

By the end of the hour, both the Blades of Marmora and the Paladins of Voltron have vacated the Tower. The multicolored Lions soared in the front, with a fleet of ships in a V formation tailing behind.

At the tip of the V was Uldren, sitting back in his seat. Steady hands on the controls, he stared ahead as he kept at a steady cruise. All of the controls were alien to him, but he knew that holding the main stick for directing the ship was familiar in his gloved hands.

He gripped the metal sticks tighter, and his teeth bared the slightest. A sudden chill had gone down his back, and there was an involuntary shiver accompanying it. He had no idea where it even came from, but for a moment, he felt as if he was somewhere else.

“Uldren, your heart rate accelerated for a second.” Pulled Pork appeared by his head. “Are you alright?”

Uldren quickly busied himself by looking forward into the space they had now entered. “I’m fine. My mind was just elsewhere.”

Once more, Uldren got startled by Hunk speaking up on the communication lines. “Oh, wow, that is weird.”

Uldren looked ahead to see what the Yellow Paladin had spotted. There, drifting in the middle of space, was Saturn. In its rings was a huge gap, a significant lack of any sort of rocks or dust in that area.

“What happened there?” Leo questioned.

“Looks like an explosion knocked a lot of the dust around,” Pidge pointed out. “Maybe a fight of some sort?”

“That’s not what we’re here for, everyone,” Keith clarified, and the Black Lion turned forward. “We’re here to investigate the Valkyrie by Nessus.”

“That’s really far out,” Cypress said. “Why would anybody of the Alliance be there?”

Lance was only semi-concentrated, twiddling his thumbs. “Plus, isn’t Nessus a wreck? Who would go out all that way just for a jumble of rocks?”

“And why shelter in the Valkyrie, an enemy ship?” Allura continued.

Krolia’s scowl deepened. “The farther we get out, the more discrepancies form in this so-called distress signal. I don’t like this at all.”

“Can I just speak for everyone and say that this was not a good idea?” Faro suggested.

A loud boom, and everyone looked. A Blade ship was encased in a large explosion, sending ship shards everywhere. No sign of the Blade was shown in the rubble, meaning the worst.

Immediately, all ships reformatted. Something black darted back and forth, weaving through every shot fired from both Lion and Blade ship. Return fire came in purple bolts barely skimming ships that were lithe enough to dodge the hits.

“Who the heck is that?!” Lance yelled, suddenly much more alert.

“The person who use the distress signal to lure us out this far!” Allura answered. “No doubt they are with the Umbra Mondo!”

“It’s only one ship,” Cypress declared. “The odds are very well against them.”

To test this, Keith whipped around the Black Lion. From its tail, a bright beam of plasma shot forward at the ship. It responded by suddenly dropping in altitude, ducking under the shot.

“It’s a really good pilot!” Keith stated. “Even though we outnumber them, they can easily dodge and hit us!”

“Are you saying you’re scared of me, then?” The communications suddenly crackle with a new voice.

Lance paled, and his grip on the Red Lion’s controls loosened. “A...Andal.”

“You remember me? How quaint. Not like it will save you now.”

“You were the one that initiated the Alliance signal in the Valkyrie,” Allura whispered with obvious shock.

“It does not take a genius to figure that out, princess. It was quite easy to lure you out, and I lured out so many of you fools, too.” Andal sighed with obvious affection. “Lord Fox will be happy, and then, so will Iaoel.”

“You’re Takumi’s murderer.” Uldren’s skin prickled as Leo’s voice hissed throughout his ship.

“That I am. Obiously.”

Uldren scowled. “Leo, don’t let him get to you. He outrivals you in flying.”

Leo sighed. “I know.” He paused, and repeated in a quiet tone, “I know.”

“But you are an expert pilot, aren’t you, Sov?” Uldren stiffened at Andal’s reply. “You were your sister’s go-to pilot. Surely you can match up with me.”

“Can you?” Leo questioned.

Keith noticed what was going on. “No. Don’t listen to him, Uldren.”

Andal grinned. “I tore out his tongue. Did you know that? He gurgled out his last words, unable to be understood properly. He couldn’t even confess his love for you.”

Uldren’s hands tightened on the controls as Keith yelled, “Uldren, shut him out!”

“Did you return his feelings? I know you did. What an amazing future you could've had together if I just didn’t murder him.”

“Shut up.”

Andal gave a wicked grin. “Oh?”

“Shut...” Uldren’s ship broke line and shot forward. “UP!”

The Black Lion turned to follow him. “ULDREN!”

Immediately, Andal’s ship turned and shot off. The Blade ship followed after him, opening fire in a flurry of rage. Not too long after that, the group was left long behind, the Black Lion also breaking rank to chase after them.

Cypress watched. “Sov, come back!”

“You’re not allowed to break line!” Krolia added on the communications.

“Today, I’m going to avenge Takumi!” Uldren responded before shoving his controls all the way forward. “I’m not coming back until I HAVE ANDAL BRASK’S HEAD!”

The chase took them back towards the direction of Earth. Andal kept ducking and weaving, infuriating Uldren even more as he wasted every last shot in his ship to at most kill him. Instead, every bolt missed the sleek black bullet by a mile at least. Soon, Uldren found the guns clicking, emptied entirely.

All the while, that accent kept taunting Uldren and rubbing it in. “Are you mad? Mad that I killed your old friend with my bare hands? Don’t you want to kill me?”

“Andal, STOP!”

Uldren stopped and looked. The Red Lion had shot overhead, and was now turning back to look at the two ships. The ship stared at both of them, its pilot looking ahead with desperation.

Lance held back tears. “Andal, I know this isn’t you! Fox has some sort of hold on you.”

Andal scoffed. “Why exactly are you doing this?” He chuckled. “You should know by now that there is no hope for me.”

“I think otherwise.” Lance paused, and when Andal didn’t respond, he continued. “I think you still have a chance. Because I know why you hurt.” He gave a dry laugh. “I know more about you than your niece does, technically speaking.”

When Andal spoke again, he was surprisingly more quiet. “Lance.”

“Please just listen to me. I know none of this is truly you. And I know that there are people who want to help you. Including me. So please just stop all of this.” Lance gripped his controls more tightly to steady himself. “I’m begging you.”

The communications went dead quiet. Both sides sat there, staring at each other. Through the windshields of each ship, hesitant glances were swapped, unsure of the outcome.

Andal gripped at the controls. His face had gone deathly pale, and sweat made the loose strands of hair from his ponytail stick to his face. His blood red eyes lost their shine, slinking back into a more subdued crimson, almost his old brown shade.

“Andal,” a voice murmured in the back of his head.

His head snapped up. “Iaoel,” he cried. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t betray Lord Fox. He’s done so much for us, hasn’t he?”

Andal looked down. “He had, but...He was the one that tore us apart from each other in the first place.”

“We attacked him,” Iaoel droned in his sweet, understanding tone. “He was defending himself.”

“He...was defending himself,” Andal repeated. Though he knew very well that was a lie, he couldn’t help but believe his lover.

“Shoot him.”

Andal snapped out of it again. “Shoot...Lance?” He murmured. “I...I can’t. He's done so much for me.”

“He means nothing to you,” Iaoel replied. “He won’t help you anymore. Plus, if you kill a Paladin of Voltron, that adds a big plus to our Lord Fox. After all, didn’t you already kill an alternate version of him?”

“Iaoel, this is different. He is the Lance I know. The Lance I killed, I didn’t know. I can’t just...shoot him.”

“You’re doing it for me, cariño. You would do anything for me, would you?”

Andal smiled softly, and his thumbs slipped over the controls for the ship guns. “I would.” He paused. “But I have...limits.” His hands relaxed again. “I can’t.”

“Such a shame. Then I’ll make you, cariño.”

The shots from Andal’s ship arced through space. Before anyone did anything, they hit the Red Lion’s head straight on. Lance gave a small gasp before an explosion erupted, sending the spacecraft flying back.

“LANCE!” Hunk screamed.

The Red Lion began to spiral as Lance screamed over the communications. “I’m hit! Controls not responding! I can’t control the Lion!”

With an angry crash, the Lion smashed straight into the floating rocks around them. It suddenly became unmoving, and Lance grew quiet. Everybody held their breath to wait for his response, but nothing came.

“Lance?” Pidge whimpered. “Lance, come in!”

Keith was quiet. “Pidge, it’s no use. He’s either unconscious...or...”

Andal’s biting tone came back on the coms. “I would prefer it to be the latter.”

Andal fired again, and Uldren couldn’t help but gasp. He saw the purple glow in his window before it hit him dead on. His window shattered, and the console erupted in an explosion as he was pressed back into his seat.

“ULDREN!” He could hear Keith scream just before he lost conscious.

When he next woke up, he couldn’t help but gasp for air. Sweat pressed his hair to his face, and he gripped his clothes on his chest with a clenched hand.

He immediately noticed how torn up his Blade outfit was. His chest was exposed, and so were parts of his arms and legs. Clearly they were never meant for a Guardian to wear.

He also felt extremely weak. His muscles shook whenever he tried to support himself, and his legs were unresponsive. Subconsciously, he tried to call out for Pulled Pork in his mind. But his Ghost didn’t answer, or give any sign of having heard it.

He forced his eyes open to look around. He was laying on steel ground, probably to a ship of some sorts. He could hear distant creaking from the ship, evidencing that either it wasn’t working or it was straight-up abandoned. It was probably the later, seeing how dark the hallway was.

A pair of feet came into his vision, and crouched down to stare at him. “Good morning.”

Uldren bared his teeth under his mask. “Andal. What did you do to me?”

“Simple. I temporarily disconnected you from the Traveler and the Light of your Ghost. It’s actually easier than one would think.”

“And what would you gain from that?”

Andal smirked under the helmet he wore. “Lord Fox wants a specimen. He's heard of a halfbreed, and wants him to be studied. Perhaps to experiment on bringing out his recessive genes.”

Uldren’s eyes widened. “Keith.”

“He's probably barreling towards us as we speak. I mean, he wouldn’t leave the one he loves to the fate of darkness.”

There was a pause. “Keith...loves me?”

“You’re surprised?” Andal laughed. “Of course he does. Ane I know you return those feelings.”

Uldren forced himself to sit up. “Don’t you even touch Keith,” he warned. “I’ll rip out your throat before you get the chance.”

“See? That proves it. You care more for him than you let on.” Andal laughed. “However, I was commanded by Lord Fox to bring him to the Umbra Mondo. You’re just the bait in all of this.” He stepped back as Uldren began to pull himself forward, obviously wanting once more to kill him. “I think fighting back is pointless, at this time.”

“You won’t do this. I won’t let you.”

“Really? Your legs obviously aren’t very responsive, right now. Plus, you have no Light. Pray tell, how are you going to fight me?”

Uldren’s answer was to pull out his sidearm with a shaky hand and fire. His aim was off by practically a mile, the bullet hitting the ship wall by Andal’s head. The corrupted man glanced at it, then back at the ex-prince trying to force himself to stand.

“Do you know where we are?” Andal walked back over. “We are on the Valkyrie. A Cabal ship having been abandoned for a good year. No electricity, no warmth...” A finger snagged on Uldren’s mask. “No oxygen.”

With a clean swipe, the Blade of Marmora mask was tossed aside and crushed against the steel wall of the Valkyrie. Unable to catch his breath in time, Uldren clasped at his throat. He gasped, struggling and making pitiful noises.

“Useless,” Andal grumbled before turning on his heel and walking away. “You’ll be dead before Keith even arrives.”

Uldren flailed on the ground as Andal walked off. His vision completely gave out in the first ten seconds, so he screwed his eyes shut. His entire body felt even more numb than it did before as his hair drifted in the zero gravity environment of space.

There was a sudden wet feeling on his cheek. He raised a hand, and felt fur. He latched onto the being, and they in return gripped his torn Blade clothes in their mouth, pulling him closer to them.

The air suddenly changed, and Uldren could breathe again. Gasping, his chest heaved, and he clutched onto the animal that now curled around him in a protective manner. He could hear the familiar sounds of technology in the area, and he could feel vibrations in the floor of somebody running up to him.

“Uldren!” He recognized the voice as Keith, so the animal must have been Kosmo, who teleported him onto what was presumably the Black Lion. Uldren forced his eyes open when he felt a warm hand on his cheek. “Uldren, are you okay?!”

“Keith?” Uldren’s voice was barely a whisper, even if he had only been exposed to space for about twenty seconds.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” When Uldren didn’t respond, Keith hissed. “Your eyes are completely blank.”

“I can’t see,” Uldren whispered in agreement. He could feel Kosmo pull him closer, whimpering slightly.

“Where’s Pulled Pork?” Keith shook Uldren, seeing that he was nodding off. “Uldren! Where’s Pulled Pork?! What happened to you?!”

“Andal,” Uldren got out before his head fell gently against Kosmo’s side and he passed out.

Uldren remembered nothing about what happened next. For a minute, it was cold, as if it was nighttime. But it left as quickly as it came, coming back with a surging warmth.

His eyes opened, and he gasped for breath. Gabriel immediately yanked his hands off of him, watching the Guardian jump back into reality. The Luxonia glanced at the Ghost now floating and spinning frantically around his partner’s head.

“Are you alright?” He innocently asked, tilting his head. “I had to reconnect your Light to your Ghost’s. Something severed your connection.”

Uldren looked around the blinding white room. It was definitely the medical wing. People he recognized hung around, staring at his bed. He could catch Carla against the wall, a sympathetic look on her face. Rowan was sitting in a chair, watching Uldren as well.

He slowly sat up, noting very quickly his aching muscles. “How long was I out?”

“Five days,” Gabriel answered.

Uldren looked over the crowd again, then noticed Kosmo sat alone. “Where’s Keith?”

Carla pushed off the wall. “We only found you and Kosmo in the Black Lion. Keith was nowhere in sight. But Kosmo was injured, as if a fight happened.”

“My memory is fuzzy, but I am fairly certain that when I was awake, Kosmo wasn’t injured,” Uldren replied. “But even if that wasn’t true, I already know who took him.”

“Who took him?” Leo’s head popped up. “Keith was kidnapped?”

“Andal said that Fox was interested in Keith’s blood. More exactly, the Galra recessive genes in him.” Uldren paused, then looked horrified and worried. “Andal took Keith, and no doubt he’s in the Umbra Mondo now.”

Everybody fell silent. They looked at each other, gasping or exchanging sorrowful looks. However, most of them resigned to not saying anything.

Uldren noticed another bed occupied, and recognized the occupant, despite the heavy amount of bandaging. “Lance!”

Adam looked downwards. “He survived the Lion crash, but barely. He’s in a vegetative state, and we don’t know when he’ll wake up.” He looked back up. “So that means that two Voltron members are indefinitely out of duty.”

Uldren looked back at the Cuban. He breathed slowly with a mask on, slow enough to make Uldren worry that that breath may be his last. But his heart rate on the monitor was perfectly fine. He wore only a hospital gown, completely slathered in bandages and gauze otherwise.

He jumped a bit when Krolia put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re feeling up to it, we need to talk.”

“Of course, Commander.” Uldren stood up slowly, ready to catch himself if his legs gave out under him. Luckily, they didn’t, and he walked perfectly fine.

Since it was obvious Uldren was alright, the crowd scattered to their own things. Everybody returned to their jobs, though not without that special air of failure hanging over their heads. Krolia even sent the Blades away to train, though instead, they were found sitting and just talking in quiet, somber voices.

Uldren found himself and Krolia in the piano room. He sat at the seat to the instrument while Krolia stood by, a hand placed on the piano.

Uldren stared into his lap, shame heavy on his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not here to talk about you straying from your orders. Honestly, I don’t blame you.” Krolia paused. “I let my emotions get in the way of my mission once.”

Uldren looked up. “What happened?”

“I met Keith’s father.” Krolia smiled. “And I kept postponing my mission to stay with him and our newborn son.” Her smile faded. “But when the Galra attacked my husband, I knew I had to leave to protect them both. Did you know that Keith didn’t know me for a large majority of my life?”

“I see,” Uldren murmured. “Then why did you pull me aside?”

“Keith was my right-hand. While he’s...busy in the Umbra Mondo, I may need to employ one of his suggestions. You’re our best pilot, good with tactics, and have a history of leading your own organization, despite not remembering it.”

“The Crows?” Uldren guessed. “Yes, I have heard of my title, ‘the Master of Crows’.”

“So I want to make you a Blade official,” Krolia abruptly finished.

Uldren paused. “...Really?” He questioned.

“Honestly, you’re the best choice out of all of the Blades. I also know that you need a new change of a Blade outfit. I can commission an outfit that’s as durable as normal Guardian clothing.”

“Do I have a choice?” Uldren asked.

“You can deny the offer, yes. I’ll get you a durable normal Blade uniform, and that will be the end of it.”

“...Alright.”


	7. Champion of Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Carla  
> -Artix von Krieger  
> -The Hero (AdventureQuest Worlds)  
> -Eternal Dragon of Time (mentioned)  
> -Andal Brask  
> -"Iaoel"  
> -Drakath Slugwrath
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Carla takes on a more mentorly task, and a bit more about the chrono angels is revealed.

“You want me to help a literal God?!” Carla gaped at Artix.

 

The paladin scuffed his feet, ignoring the odd stares they were being given. “The Eternal Dragon of Time isn’t really a god. Just a really powerful dragon.”

 

“I have heard that dragons are considered gods in some religions,” Carla retorted. “And the Eternal Dragon of Time is actually considered a god in the chrono angel society, no matter where you stand. I’m not a religious person, but I do see them as a god. I mean, us chrono angels aren’t of infinite power.”

 

“Well, neither is the Eternal Dragon of Time,” Artix admitted. “We never saw them as a god, and we still don’t. Even when they’re our friend.”

 

“You...befriended them?” Carla stared with wide eyes.

 

“Indeed!” He grinned. “They had lost their memories, and reincarnated as a simple human being! One that was key in fighting against Drakath.”

 

“They’re...still around?”

 

“Yes, but out of reach. You see, Drakath attempted to free the Mother of Monsters to destroy Lore itself. He was stopped by the Hero, but parts of her bled out and began to poison parts of our home. They’ve had their hands full in taking care of her minions seeking to free her, too. They’ve been trying to harness the powers of the Eternal Dragon of Time, but haven’t really succeeded. That’s why I’m asking you to help them!”

 

Carla frowned. “I’m not a teacher person. My uncle was.”

 

“Well, I’m sorry, but as you know, your uncle isn’t quite available right now.” Artix looked downwards. “I’m not asking much. I just want you to help them get a better grasp of what they can do.”

 

Carla gave a faint smile. “While I’ll be honored to do that, I’m afraid that I might...geek out.” She gave a nervous chuckle. “Honestly, I’ll be honored to be in the same room as the Eternal Dragon of Time!”

 

“Okay, okay!” Artix stepped back, hands up. “But I’ll warn you. They’re quite a handful.”

 

“Artix, I’m dating the Light Incarnate, whose sleeping schedule infuriates me, and choices of dates sometimes try to kill me. I’m not sure much can compare to him!”

 

One travel to Lore later, Carla wished that she had been right.

 

Both her and Artix stood in the Greenguard Forest, side by side and armed. Artix seemed perfectly calm and even happy, while Carla looked as if her dreams were shattered in a millisecond.

 

The fabled Eternal Dragon of Time, the one originally destined to rule over the entire universe, was killing monsters galore, screaming and hollering like a crazed blood knight on a rampage.

 

“That’s the Eternal Dragon of Time,” Carla whispered in a horrified voice.

 

Artix smiled. “Meet the Hero,” he merely replied. “Eternal Dragon of Time is a mouthful, so Hero is just their nickname.”

 

“What’s their real name?” Carla asked.

 

Before Artix answered, the Hero ran up. Their arms were laden with loot from the monsters, and they had a dumb grin on their face. It reminded Carla much of a Guardian, so she suddenly understood how alike Lorians and Guardians were.

 

“Hey, Artix!” The Hero cried. “Who’s the newcomer?”

 

Artix smiled. “This is Carla. She’s here to help you out with your powers as the Eternal Dragon of Time.”

 

The Hero nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, I see.” They stared blankly at the woman. “Well?”

 

Carla was taken aback by this. “Well...what?”

 

“Aren’t you going to give me a quest?”

 

“H...Huh?” Carla tilted her head.

 

Artix quickly jumped in. “She’s not used to how Lore works, Hero. She’s not some normal quest giver. She just came to help you with your powers as the Eternal Dragon of Time.”

 

The Hero nodded a bit. “Then, you know about the Eternal Dragon of Time and my powers?”

 

“Yes. Well, no. Well...sort of,” Carla admitted. “I know chrono magic, but I don’t know if we work differently or not in terms of chronomancy.”

 

“Still, it’s nice to meet another chronomancer around these parts!” The Hero paused, then scratched their arm. “The last one died on me.”

 

Artix quickly noticed Carla’s concerned look. “Just ignore it.”

 

“Alright.” Carla looked over the Hero. “Can I get your pronouns before we begin?”

 

“They slash them,” they answered.

 

“Well...No, I meant what you are.”

 

“I’m the Eternal Dragon of Time.”

 

“Are you a boy or a girl?”

 

“I’m an adventurer!”

 

“What’s in your pants?”

 

The Hero glanced down before answering, “Heroism.”

 

“...Right. Well...Do you know how to bring out your wings? All chrono angel training starts with the wings.”

 

The Hero was unamused. “We both have powers of time itself and that’s what you ask?”

 

“I just said that’s how all chrono angel training starts!”

 

Artix sensed an argument brewing, and quickly began to shuffle away. “Alright. I’ll leave you to to...training!” He quickly scampered away, running back to Battleon at breakneck speed.

 

Both stared at each other, Carla with her arms crossed, until the Hero murmured, “I summoned my wings once. But just once, and that was a really long time ago.”

 

“Can you at least try?” Carla sighed. “Think of it as...your quest.”

 

The Hero immediately brightened up. “With pleasure!”

 

The Hero closed their eyes, and began to concentrate. Carla watched them as nothing began to happen. Slowly, her eyebrow raised up, and disappointment set in.

 

“I feel an itch!” The Hero commented.

 

“Well, then.” Carla groaned. “Seems like the wings may not be our starting-”

 

A light grabbed her attention, and she looked back. Immediately, her eyes went absolutely wide. The Hero now stood their with spread out wings, feather as black as a crow’s.

 

“...I mean, it looks like they are,” she corrected herself.

 

The Hero glanced back. They let the wings fold in, then spread back out. They stared with childlike wonder as they gave a few experimental flaps.

 

“It’s been years since I’ve seen these,” they remarked. “I could probably wipe the floor with Drakath again!”

 

Carla quickly snapped out of her admiration. “Let’s not. How about we take our mind off of Drakath and see if you have a good grasp at flying?”

 

“I remember that I did fly with these,” the Hero stated. “I probably still have a good grasp.”

 

Carla summoned her own wings, and let them spread out. She noticed immediately that they were about the same size as the Hero’s, an incredible feat in the chrono angels. “We’ll see,” she replied before rocketing up in the air, leaving the Hero in the dust.

 

The angel immediately broke through the cloud line hanging in the air. She looked back down, hovering in the air. Her arms were crossed until the a Hero burst up, and shot past her into the sky. She watched them try to descend, but only succeeded in plummeting past her, screaming.

 

“Too low,” she commented when they came back up.

 

“Aw, shaddup.” They mimicked her crossed arms.

 

Carla glanced to the side. The mountain of Doomskull loomed over all of Lore, glaring down at it and its inhabitants. She could faintly see a structure or two on the rocks. She did not see any form of movement or life, however.

 

The Hero followed her gaze. “I’ve had my hands full with him and the other minions of the Mother of Monsters,” he stated.

 

“The Alliance can help deal with them,” Carla suggested.

 

The Hero shook their head. “No. It’s my battle. I don’t want anyone to get hurt in my fights.”

 

“Honorable,” the younger noted. “I’ll remember that.”

 

The Hero looked at Carla. “So, how did you come upon being a chronomancer, if I may ask?”

 

“Well...It’s in my blood. My entire species are chronomancers. We all were created when you were slain.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I guess that the legend of the birth of the timelines never has reached your ears, then.” Carla stared ahead, letting the air run through her wings. “There used to be one timeline in the universe. Millennia ago. The Lux Mondo and Umbra Mondo ignored it, believing themselves to be the whole universe. The Eternal Dragon of Time monitored the timeline, and protected it from all harm.

 

“However, the timeline fell into ruin. The Eternal Dragon of Time wished that it wasn’t like this. So, it let itself be killed by a dragonslayer in a last bid to save it. However, that timeline was destroyed upon the death of the Eternal Dragon. But the heart of the Eternal Dragon was an hourglass, shattered by the dragonslayer. The dust of the hourglass created its offspring of sorts. They became the first chrono angels.

 

“As for the timeline, it shattered, and its pieces reset. They became the timelines we know today, multiplying en masse and becoming infinite. The Umbra Mondo and Lux Mondo began consuming timelines with light or darkness to create half-blood Luxonia and Umbrati.”

 

“There are different types?” The Hero questioned.

 

“Pure-bloods are the ones capable of speech and basic human thoughts. Half-bloods are the consumed souls of what once were human, and are snarling beasts. Luxonia usually kill the half-blood Luxonia out of disgust. Umbrati use the half-blood Umbrati to fight the war we’re in now.”

 

“So, the Eternal Dragon created you?” The Hero asked.

 

“It created my ancestors. The chrono angels have the ability to protect the timelines, just as the Eternal Dragon of Time had. I protect this timeline, to harness its soldiers against the Umbra Mondo in the war.”

 

“So technically, you’re my great times a hundred granddaughter.”

 

“Never put it like that again.”

 

“Got it. Sorry.”

 

Carla sighed before beginning to descend. “Let’s head back onto solid ground.”

 

“Right behind you!” The Hero dropped like a rock after her.

 

When Carla landed back down gracefully, she glanced around. For a rare moment, Greenguard Forest was absolutely peaceful. No monsters lurked in it, waiting to kill either her or the Hero. Only the wind bid hello to them.

 

The a Hero landed as well, and noticed her looking around. “Don’t worry,” they reassured. “Monsters only attack you if you instigate the fight.”

 

“I see. Lore works so strangely compared to what I am used to.”

 

The Hero placed their hands on their hips. “Well? Shall we continue with training?”

 

Carla snapped out of it. “Huh? Oh. Well...I guess I didn’t really think of how to carry out this whole teacher process. I don’t really know where to start.”

 

“Oh, alright. I’ll go do some quests somewhere else, then I’ll check back in and see if you’ve come up with something. Is that fair?”

 

“Completely fair.” Carla nodded, and watched as the Hero gained a giddy expression and bolted off into the unknown like a rocket. “They’re like a child.”

 

Deciding to make herself comfortable, Carla sat down on a rock, crossing her legs. She stared up at the sun, which had just began its descent into a sunset. The clouds still clustered in the sky, painting white splotches on the blue canvas.

 

Now completely alone, Carla slowly pulled out a bullet, clipped onto her Timeweaver. It was a sniper bullet, incompatible with her gun, which didn’t even use physical bullets. On the side were the carved initials ‘AB’.

 

She remembered when her present self gave her this and the message her uncle left with her. She could barely contain her feelings, but managed to keep herself together long enough to later on flee and begin to quietly cry. Carla has been entirely engrossed in finding the Light Incarnate to save the universe that she hadn’t seen him for five years. She didn’t even know if he was okay. And then she suddenly got that unexpected message, confirming his status to her.

 

And then it all went downhill. Andal played the hero, was lost, and a few months later, emerged as one of them, murdering two important Alliance members that sent a shockwave through the organization. She’ll give him one thing: he caused everyone to suddenly realize the mortality of this situation.

 

“Are you reminiscing of what we used to be?”

 

Carla lept up. Clutching the bullet in one hand, she pulled her gun out and pointed it forward. Andal stood a few feet away, watching her with no change in expression.

 

“What do you want?” She growled. “I know that you’re consumed, so there’s no use bluffing! You’re not the Andal I know.”

 

“You speak as if darkness has made me less of a human being.”

 

“It has! You’re practically dead at this point! You gave in to their lies of power and riches! I thought you were stronger than that!”

 

Andal scoffed. “I was really given no other choice, Carla. No bribery. No promises. Just blood. Now, everything will bow to the Queen, or they will be destroyed. Their call.”

 

“Why are you even here?!” Carla demanded.

 

“The forces of the Queen want to strike a deal with you. Make you an offer. No surprises, no catches. Just honest business.”

 

“There is always a catch when it comes to darkness.”

 

Andal’s eyes narrowed under his hood. “Still believe in the whole 'light is good, dark is evil’ cliché? They are merely resources, biological components, concepts, all that. And yet you still believe in that pathetic philosophy.” He huffed again. “I raised you wrong.”

 

Carla gritted her teeth. “The man I am talking to did not raise me.” She paused, then dared to ask, “What’s this deal of yours?”

 

Andal extended a hand in answer. “Join us.”

 

Carla’s reaction was immediate, to channel her abilities to load her gun with a shot of chrono magic. “Are you insane?”

 

“Not insane. Call it pragmatism.”

 

Andal turned away, took one step, then exploded into black smoke like Umbrati did when teleporting. Carla’s head whipped around, seeking out his figure again to keep him in her line of sights.

 

Finally, she managed to see him again, through the treelines. Running forward and leaping over a fallen log, she burst out from the forest area to step onto an empty shore of grass facing at a lake. Andal stood at the edge, looking out into the still water.

 

“See this?” He gestured to it. “The surface refracts the light from the sun, giving it a glittering effect. Do you know how that works?”

 

Carla decided to play along. “Specular reflection on the still water’s surface,” she replied.

 

“And when the water ripples?” Andal tipped his boot in to kick up a ripple, letting it spread out and shake the calm water to make a wavy effect of the sunlight streaming down on it.

 

“Sun glitter.”

 

“See? Even though you claim that your uncle and I are two different people, you answer to us as we are the same person. By your logic, two different people taught you the same lesson in science, of light refracting off of bodies of water.”

 

“Where is the point you are trying to make?” Carla growled.

 

Andal stood up. “There cannot be just light. Somewhere, even when you can’t see it, and you can’t prove it, there is darkness.” He opened his palm, and a black substance flowed out of his hand, forming into a tetrahedron, floating and spinning above his palm. “And I intend to prove it.”

 

Carla stepped forward, reaching her hand out when Andal grasped the tetrahedron and reeled his arm back. “Wait!”

 

With an expert throw, the sniper tossed it. The tetrahedron skipped a few times before sinking into the water directly in the middle of the lake. A few bubbles went up, but nothing else happened, so Carla relaxed.

 

She suddenly looked back up once she noticed that the entire lake was growing a lot darker. Darker than any water she’s ever seen. The ink-like substance spread out from the entire, swallowing whole any clear water. In mere seconds, it became pitch black.

 

“See? Darkness.” Andal presses his foot down onto the water, and began to walk forward. Miraculously, he stayed on as if it was a surface, yet ripples still spread out wherever his boots hit. “I told you.”

 

Carla stepped back, drawing her gun in one hand and lance in the other. Her entire body bristled, and her teeth were bared. She was ready to lunge at Andal in a fit of rage.

 

“I kept my hopes up for two months.” Carla paused when he began speaking, continuing to walk to the center of the lake. “Waiting for somebody to come and save me from the horrors of the Umbra Mondo. But nobody ever came. I couldn’t fight back, and I had nobody to talk to besides my own enemies. I learned something. That the Queen is probably the nicest person I have ever met. She stayed with me. She helped me. I owe my life to her, because it would be in despair if she didn’t do anything.”

 

“She’s manipulating you!” Carla called after her uncle. “Turning you against her own family!”

 

“No. She’s a family woman. That is why I was given the chance to attempt to bring you to our side.”

 

“It’s not your side! You belonged with the Alliance!”

 

Andal finally stopped in the center of the lake. His back was to Carla, and he stared at the tree line at the other side of the lake. The wind rustled his black cloak, the purple outline of a rose glaring into Carla’s heart.

 

“Not anymore. The Alliance is an organization of hope. My soul has been consumed by darkness and despair.” Andal turned back, and grabbed at his belt. “And now, I want you to feel the despair your negligence caused!”

 

Carla watched as Andal pulled out his chrono angel blade from his belt. However, instead of the brilliant blade with the white hilt and glowing runes, the blade was tainted, a sickly dark grey instead of the bright silver. The runes pulsed a poisonous purple, and a dark aura seeped from every inch of the sword. The hilt itself was either a very dark blue or a black. It was hard to tell at the distance she was.

 

Carla stood there. The black waters barely touched her boots. A quick dip with the toe of her shoe, and she could assume that it wasn’t harmful. No stinging pain or anything.

 

“No thanks.” Carla put back her gun, and placed her lance into her dominant hand. “I have my own despair.”

 

“But do you accept that light isn’t always good, and that the dark isn’t always bad?”

 

“I’ll believe it when I see it. For now, I am firm in the belief that the dark is nothing but poisonous, due to experience with it.”

 

“It doesn’t matter what you have experienced with darkness. It matters that there is always two sides to the same story.”

 

“Currently, the story leans to one side.” Carla stuck her foot out, and stepped forward, only to see it plunge a good foot into the water.

 

“You really believe that the darkness will accept you if you think so foolishly?” Andal mocked. “You can only walk the path if you change your thoughts.”

 

Carla stepped back, and her wings were called to her back. “Then I won’t walk.”

 

“You’re so stubborn. Can’t you just realize that-?”

 

Carla had no idea what he said next. She shot off from the ground, flying forward. Her lance slammed into Andal’s blade, which was raised in time to block her attack.

 

“Listen to me!” He yelled at her, red eyes burning.

 

“Never! I won’t fall to darkness like you did!”

 

“Chica!” Carla paused at the nickname, staring at Andal, who was trying hard to hold her back. “I was given only one chance to bring you to the right side! Don’t let my efforts be in vain!” He paused, and looked saddened. “I don’t want to hurt you, chica. Whether you like it or not, I still see you as my niece. I still love you. And if I don’t convince you to come with me, you will die!”

 

Carla’s reply was cold and unforgiving. “Then I die. I won’t go to darkness. I won’t leave the light like you did.”

 

Andal still looked at her with pleading eyes. “Carla, please. I’m begging you.”

 

“NEVER!”

 

Carla swung, and slammed the sword out of Andal’s hands and straight into the water. The sword plummeted straight down out of sight, out of reach in less than a second. The chrono angel slammed into Andal. Both fell down, and with a mighty splash, sank down into the water after the blade.

 

She couldn’t see, but could miraculously breathe. A few feet above Andal, they sank down into the depths, bubbles drifting up after them both. Carla held her Lance more tightly, looking around and careful to take in small breaths. She might swallow the darkness in the water.

 

She looked down at Andal below her. He’s gone completely still, eyes cracked open slightly. She could see from here that his eyes have lost the red glow.

 

Carla reached out a hand. “Uncle!”

 

Andal’s eyes opened wider. Indeed, they have returned to a chocolate brown. “Carla...?” He almost whispered, showing signs of weakness, and reached out his hand to take hers.

 

Before their fingers even brushed together, a third arm reached from darkness. Their fingers laced tightly with Andal’s, and pulled his arm gently down away from Carla’s reach.

 

“Now, now, cariño,” Iaoel purred, drifting down by Andal. “Lord Fox doesn’t want you to leave to go back to that sickening light.”

 

“Cariño?” Carla seethed. “Nobody is allowed to call him that!”

 

Iaoel smirked. “Not even his beloved Iaoel?”

 

Carla froze, paling at that. “I...Iaoel?”

 

“Of course, I’m not the real Iaoel. Lord Fox is very interested in soulcraft. I am an artificial soul he created, implanted to keep Andal on his side while using his beloved’s face.” Iaoel gripped Andal’s chin, making him gasp. “Isn’t that right, cariño?”

 

“Carla...” Andal whimpered.

 

“You must forget about her. Lord Fox is the only important person in your life.”

 

“Let him go!” Carla screamed, pointing her lance forward.

 

“Have fun drowning in the depths of darkness.” Iaoel pulled Andal close to him, and with a scream of true fear and anguish from the captive, both were gone in a blast of darkness that sent Carla spinning in the water.

 

It struck Carla suddenly that she had no way of escaping. There was no possible way to tell what was up and what was down. There was nothing but the void all around her, blinding her to everything else. Blindly, she began to thrash with her weapons sheathed, hoping she would push her way up to the surface.

 

Soon, she began to tire. She felt weaker than she ever had before, something that struck her as odd. She wanted nothing more than to just sleep, and let the current take her. Her arms slowly dropped to her sides, and her conscious began to waver.

 

Suddenly, there was a weight on her stomach, and she felt herself yanked up. She couldn’t help but gasp when she felt fresh air on her face, and energy began to suddenly return to her veins.

 

There was a huff. “You are not the Hero,” a gruff man’s voice declared before she was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground.

 

Immediately, Carla used what strength she had to flip onto her back. Her hand went behind, and yanked her lance off her back to point it at Drakath standing above her. He was obviously unimpressed with the show of rebellion, but he let it slide.

 

“You really are too weak to fight me,” he commented.

 

“You’re Drakath. Why did you save me?” Carla growled.

 

“I mistook the power you emanated as the same one as the Hero’s. Your powers are not only the same, but are at equal strength. And I also noticed that you were dying. If anyone will kill the Hero, it will be me.”

 

“Wonderful,” Carla groaned, trying to support herself. “I suppose you’ll kill me, then.”

 

“Oh, no. I know what destruction I will be bringing onto this timeline if I kill you. Your spells over this timeline are the one thing saving it from destruction by darkness. Though I would want my favor repaid for sparing you.”

 

Carla growled. “Oh, enlighten me.”

 

“The two wielding chaos that linger in the Alliance. Whatever happens to them, do not allow them to leave your ragtag organization. Especially the blue-haired one. And no not tell anyone I told you this.”

 

Carla huffed. “Wonderful.”

 

“Wonderful indeed.” Drakath shot off on his wings, kicking dust into Carla’s face while he did so and making her cough up a storm.


	8. Cause and Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Andal Brask  
> -"Iaoel"  
> -Parisia  
> -Kurami  
> -Petra Venj (mentioned)  
> -Fox  
> -Mirage (mentioned)  
> -Seraphina (mentioned)  
> -Keith (mentioned)  
> -Uldren (mentioned)
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Captured by the enemies of the Shadow Queen, Andal is forced to talk to an old enemy.

“Andal? Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

 

Andal groaned, though not from pain, and more from just exhaustion. He cracked an eye open, the other one swollen and bruised.

 

The figure of a woman stood above, watching over him. Her hair was a dull orange, and she was clothed in a purple and black dress with hints of armor on her sleeves and legs. Everything else around her was in shades of purple or black.

 

She clasped her gloves together, smiling. “Oh, Andal! You’re finally awake! I’m so glad!”

 

“Finally?” He questioned.

 

“Yes. You’ve been asleep for quite a very long time!”

 

“Are you one of Lord Fox’s healers?” The woman paused at that. “You’re not an Umbrati.”

 

“I’m not with Fox,” she answered. “In fact, I’m against him.”

 

“What?!” Andal shot up from the bed he laid on, but was immediately choked, and made a gurgling noise.

 

Chains were extending from the medical bed. Shackles attached to those chains were present on Andal’s neck and wrists. Fully sitting up was as far as he could go, and if he lunged like he just did, he would strangle himself.

 

Deeply breathing, Andal looked at himself. He took note that not only was his cloak missing, a lot of his clothes were peeled away to reveal blood soaked bandages. Now much more alert, he could feel that a few had reopened from his sudden movement, and that a lot of them hurt, sore or just plain searing.

 

The woman could tell that he could feel great pain. “We tried to administer medicines to numb your pain,” she explained gently. “And I even used my magic to reverse your wounds. But they kept coming back by the use of dark magic.”

 

“Good,” Andal growled. “The pain makes me feel alive.”

 

The woman frowned. “I know that’s not the Andal I know talking.”

 

“You know me?” He questioned.

 

“It’s been too long. My hair’s gotten a lot darker from lack of sunlight. That happens when you’ve been in the plane of darkness for five years.”

 

“...Parisia?” Andal gasped.

 

Parisia smiled warmly. “Hello again, old friend.”

 

Andal instead bit back with renewed venom. “I am anything but your friend, with the Alliance or not. You caused my beloved’s death!”

 

“And he was supposed to stay dead,” Parisia answered. “Reviving people from the dead is supposed to be impossible. But when our soldiers finally pinned you and your Umbrati partner down, you kept screaming bloody murder about the Umbrati being Iaoel. Even though he is obviously not him.” She shook her head. “Have you really fallen this far into insanity?”

 

“You speak as if this is all my fault!”

 

“It is. If you just listened to me and stayed away from Iaoel in Shion, he would have never gave you and Carla delusions of grandeur, causing Carla to jump into a timeline in the midst of being consumed in a wild goose chase of finding the person supposed to be her true mother.”

 

“Lucy-1 is a better mother than you ever were,” Andal snapped.

 

“It seems you fell deeper than I thought,” Parisia surmised. “You might even be beyond saving, like Kurami believes you to be.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that I’m trying to save you, and it will be best to put our past differences aside so I can remove Fox’s influence on you.”

 

Andal instead squirmed out of her reach. “I may not be able to use my hands, but I’ll bite your fingers off!” He threatened.

 

Parisia was just amused by the threat. “Yes, of course you will, Andal.”

 

Andal glanced around. “Iaoel,” he realized. “Where is Iaoel?!”

 

“Oh, that thing?” Parisia made a disgusted noise. “He isn’t even a half-blood Umbrati. He’s some disgusting, twisted mutant that Fox created to mess with your head.”

 

“You don’t say that about him!”

 

The chrono angel pushed back in her chair, writing with an ebony quill onto a notepad. “Fierce protectiveness over his captor...Increasingly hostile reactions...”

 

Andal was only provoked further. “Don’t take notes on me as if I am a lab rat! And don’t call Iaoel my captor!”

 

“Andal, let’s be real here. You have soldiers against you surrounding you on all sides. You’re chained up, weapons taken away, and you have restraints and walls between you and your faithful companion.” Parisia crossed her legs, leaning forward. “You’re not in a position to be making demands of me.”

 

“Where am I?” He growled.

 

Parisia smiled, leaning back again. “You’re in the base of the resistance of the Umbra Mondo, the Insurrection’s Abyss. We help the Alliance take the chair out from under Fox, even though neither side knows we exist. Our leader is currently seeking the throne to put the Umbra Mondo back under the power of the Umbrati, instead of the Reploid and human controllers.”

 

“You work with the Umbrati?”

 

“Only pure-bloods. All half-bloods are destroyed, except one. Who is a literal half-blood. Our leader.”

 

“Your leader is an offspring of the Umbrati?” Andal paused.

 

“And a human. That is all she has shared with us. However, a ruler with some Umbrati blood in them is better than rulers with none.”

 

Andal narrowed his eyes. “What about efficiency?”

 

“Are you serious? Fox has turned the Umbra Mondo into nothing but a dictatorship instead of the monarchy it was meant to be. Our leader wants to restore the monarchy, and keep it that way.”

 

“Stop calling them ‘our leader’ and give me a name to the man I am going to kill with my bare hands!” Andal tugged on his chains.

 

A voice broke into the conversation. “I really don’t look like a man, Brasket.”

 

Andal glanced over at a woman walking up. Instead of the refined, noble man he expected, he instead saw a woman in casual clothing. Her hands were in the pockets of her jacket, her hood pulled up over her snow white hair. But her skin was dark, and her irises had the same yellow color as Umbrati do. She had to be the leader, if she was half-Umbrati. But she was slouching so much, and was barely even focused on the conversation she had just barged in to.

 

“Hey, Pari girl.” The leader walked up with a wicked grin. “Brasket.”

 

“My name is Andal-” Andal started.

 

“Brask,” she finished. “I know. Brask. Basket. Simple conclusion.”

 

“Is he restrained?” Parisia asked, turning in her chair.

 

“Muzzled, leashed, and in a straitjacket,” she answered. “However, we found really quickly that his soul is latched on like a leech to Brasket’s. We’re afraid of doing anything to him before figuring out what killing him could do.”

 

Andal quickly realized who they were talking about. “You don’t get to treat Iaoel like an animal!” He snarled.

 

“What, and you can?” The woman snarked. “Is that your form of play in the sheets?” Andal turned beet red. “But more likely, it’ll be you leashed and begging, huh? Seeing as you’re the captive.”

 

Parisia shot the lady a glare. “Kurami!” She hissed.

 

Kurami laughed in response. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing,” she claimed, raising her hands in defense. Lowering them, she smiled at Andal. “Name’s Kurami. Half-Umbrati, and leader of the people who want to dethrone the Queen and place yours truly in power.”

 

“They will betray a half-Umbrati before you sit down on the drone!” Andal claimed.

 

Kurami shrugged. “You’ll be surprised when it comes to the Shadow Queen. She’s just a flimsy human, and has replaced all people in power with such. Humans and Reploids. You included! I at least got some Umbrati blood. All of my soldiers have agreed that I’m a much more suitable candidate.”

 

“Granted, there will be some that try to overthrow her,” Parisia agreed. “Did you know that Umbra Mondo rulers only stay in power for a maximum of ten years before some rebellion occurs and either kills or exiles them?”

 

“We’re trying to limit the Queen’s rule to just five years,” Kurami added. “And hopefully, help me stay on longer than ten years.”

 

“I guess it is up to me to escape and warn the Queen of you,” Andal growled.

 

Kurami laughed. “Oh, she is well aware of me. She kicked me out of Shadow’s Heart personally. I also used to work for her advisor. Kinda sorta. I did what he wanted me to, but it’s been years, and he practically knows what side I’m really on.”

 

“Which side is that?”

 

“The Alliance. Duh.” She grinned. “Speaking of, I heard it’s been going well. ‘Cept you killing the kid. That is not-so well.”

 

“‘The’ kid?” Andal immediately noted how odd that was framed.

 

“I knew him personally!” Kurami proclaimed. “I saved his life, then I faked my death in front of him!” She paused, then heaved a sigh. “Pari girl is one of the few chrono angels with the ability to have future visions. She predicted his death months before it happened. I knew he would die, but...still. It kind of stung when Spades told me.”

 

“You’re friends with Cayde?” Andal guessed.

 

“More allies. Not full-on friends. We only know each other because I helped him out of Shadow’s Heart.” Kurami noticed Andal’s surprised expression. “Yea. I kinda saved him. Though I didn’t get him out of the Umbra Mondo. I just got him away from Fox.”

 

Parisia nodded. “Yes, that’s very nice. But we can’t really be telling your whole life story to the enemy.”

 

“Well, he’s asking questions. I’m obliged to give him the answer, Pari girl. It’s the polite thing to do.”

 

Parisia sighed. “Go bother Petra.”

 

Despite ranking higher than her, Kurami took the order in stride, even giving a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.” Hopping back onto her feet from sitting, she began to strut back out with the same careless stride she came in with.

 

“Petra?” Andal questioned. “I thought Petra was with Mara Sov.”

 

“Not anymore,” Parisia sighed. “Petra marched into the Umbra Mondo and demanded something of Kurami. She wanted her to help her force Uldren Sov back into the Dreaming City.”

 

Andal frowned. “Why?”

 

“A recent decision between the Alliance and the Dreaming City was made. Uldren Sov was found in the Alliance forces, and Mara Sov declared she wanted him back. However, it was an eleven to two vote on not handing him over. He personally refused to go, too. So Petra looked elsewhere, confirming to us that Mara was not going to take no for an answer.”

 

“So Petra joined Kurami?”

 

“Not willingly. Kurami didn’t want to force Uldren’s hand, either.” Parisia crossed her legs. “I had my visions conclude that Uldren is destined for great things.”

 

“What kind of things?”

 

“If I told you, your Lord will have a meltdown,” Parisia snarked. “Petra still wasn’t having any of it, so Kurami took a page out of Fox’s book and used a special type of consuming to place her under our hold. She has her personality and memories, but her will is entirely our own.”

 

“Special type?” Andal tilted his head.

 

“The same thing that happened to your Aerioi members and Mirage. They’re not Umbrati, but their souls have been consumed by darkness, with just enough light to let them keep their more humane forms.” Parisia hummed a bit. “Of course, there are physical side effects. Mirage has his fully blue eyes, and he hides a lot of his body for a reason, to be sure of it.”

 

Andal nodded. “And Petra?”

 

“Not much has happened. Yet. She may or may not deteriorate the same way Mirage is. We don’t know.”

 

“Mirage is deteriorating?!”

 

“We can assume that. Why would he hide so much of his body? A failed experiment by Fox, perhaps?”

 

“You know a lot about Fox and his...experiments.”

 

Parisia smiled at that. “We had an ally steal a whole treasure trove of his data. It’s so much, we’re still sorting through it. Of course, he definitely knows it’s been taken. A lot of it was classified. But he seized it quite easily.” She giggled. “You really need to up your game in technology.”

 

Andal growled. “You sure are telling your prisoner a lot of things! Useful information for me, once I pass it over to Lord Fox!”

 

The chrono angel sighed. “Andal, you’re not leaving. Our past aside, I genuinely want to help you, and get rid of the hold of darkness on you. If I don’t, you might deteriorate like Mirage is.”

 

“If you are speaking the truth, then...” Andal raised his hand. “Is that what this is?”

 

Parisia leaned forward. The tips of Andal’s fingers were pure white, looking like the color was drained from it. The very tips were darker than the rest, beginning to gray. From his fingers up, his veins were darker, becoming more visible against his skin.

 

She gently took his hand. “Yes. That’s what I believe this is.”

 

For once, Andal’s hard gaze softened. “I thought it was frostbite.”

 

“Well, do they blister, or have they turned blue? How long have you had them?”

 

“They have not blistered or turned blue, and...probably a couple of days? They weren’t this noticeable the last time I was awake.”

 

Parisia gasped at that, and looked up. “Then the deterioration is...faster than I expected. Much faster than Mirage’s recordings.” She inspected one finger. “It must be because of the darkness directly latching onto you, like Iaoel.”

 

“Iaoel is...killing me?” Andal whimpered.

 

“Slowly. I...I’ll give you only a couple of months, if it’s going this fast.” For once, Parisia was showing genuine sympathy to Andal. “I...I don’t know what to do. My powers won’t work on you. The darkness won’t allow me to reverse your wounds.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Why are you sorry? You don’t care for me.”

 

“Maybe I don’t, but my child does!” Parisia suddenly snapped. “I haven’t seen her for years, I don’t even know if she’s alive at this point, and I at least want you to be alive to see her again, knowing she loves you more than she loves me!”

 

Andal paused, then blinked. “You don’t even know who made the Alliance?”

 

“Wh-What?”

 

He smiled, and clasped her hand tightly. “Carla is alive. She's doing everything she can to help save the universe, like she always wanted to. She helped form the Alliance, and she's being so brave and kind and amazing. You would be so proud of her if you would just get your head out of the gutter.”

 

Parisia stared quietly at Andal. A thousand thoughts seemed to run through her head, with no sign of articulating one. She gripped his hand a little more tightly, blinking a few times as if to clear her head.

 

“She’s okay,” she stated. “Oh my ancient ancestries, she’s okay?”

 

“Perfectly fine, last I checked,” Andal agreed, smiling as he finally laid back, the chains clinking a bit.

 

Parisia sighed, smiling. “It must have been hard to say that.”

 

“No. It’s been getting easier. I think the longer I am away from Iaoel...”

 

“The more your mind clears up, and the deterioration eventually slows to a stop!” Parisia finished. “So it’s basically like going cold turkey!”

 

“Which means I will probably have...withdrawals,” Andal said. “So I recommend keeping the chains on me.”

 

Parisia nodded somberly. “I guess that means my visit with you is over today.” She closed her notepad. “But not only have I collected a lot of information about deterioration overall, I’ve also provided a valid conclusion on breaking you free from Fox’s hold.”

 

Andal gave a wicked grin. “I think Lord Fox is a clever one. It won’t be as easy as you think.”

 

“I know. But it’ll be much harder on you than it is on me.” Parisia slowly stood up. “Good night, Andal.”

 

“Good night, I guess.” Andal let his head softly thud onto the pillow, ignoring the complaints of his body.

 

Parisia began to walk away, Andal listening to her shoes on the floor. A few moments after that, the few lights in the small room went out, plunging him into darkness.

 

He suddenly felt so cold and unprotected. He wished he had his cloak. It was warm and safe. He would feel so much better with it. Maybe just even a small scrap could bring him the same comfort it did.

 

Immediately, he forced that thought down in a small attempt. It was the poison in him talking, the darkness that forced his every move, whether he was aware of it or not. He had to fight it off, or at least ignore its beckons. He wouldn’t push himself into recovering. He would just have to wait for it to come to him.

 

Rolling over as best as he could, he curled up, then instantly decided against it. More wounds probably just reopened by doing that, sending him into further pain. Lying straight would do for now, despite how cold he was.

 

There was a click, and relief suddenly came to his wrists and neck. He looked to see the metal glint of chains gone, now having fallen down around the bed.

 

A hand pet his head gently, stroking his ponytail. “Poor, poor cariño. Look what she did to you.”

 

Immediately, Andal forced himself onto his feet, stumbling back and falling flat on his ass. It was too dark to see anything but the glowing blue irises staring down at him.

 

“I-Iaoel.” Andal scrambled back on his hands and knees.

 

Iaoel approached him calmly, smiling sweetly in the blanket of the void. “Now, my love, why do you run from me? It’s me, your beloved.”

 

“You are not Iaoel!” Andal fiercely barked. “I see that now. You’re nothing but a fake copy! My beloved is still dead!”

 

Iaoel made disapproving noises with his tongue. “You poor, blind thing, it’s still me. Your everything. The one you would do anything for. It is her who has lied to you. Hasn’t she lied to you before?”

 

“Shut up!” Andal bit back. “I trust her more than I trust you, you monster!”

 

At once, Iaoel’s mood changed. The darkness became a lot colder, and Andal shivered in what clothes he still had on. Forcing himself to stand, he backed away about three steps before realizing his back hasn’t hit the wall, yet.

 

“Oh, yes.” Iaoel smirked once Andal realized this. “We’re not where help can find you.”

 

“Get away from me,” Andal whispered, but there was no malice, instead outright fear.

 

Iaoel instead walked forward slowly. “Did you really think you could escape from me? Tear me away from you? No. I am connected to every single atom of your being. And I will continue to be a part of you until you wither away when you are no longer useful to the plans of Lord Fox.”

 

“I said get away!”

 

Iaoel grabbed Andal’s wrists tightly, and yanked him forward so their chests slammed into each other, their heads barely touching. “I will never get away. I will forever be a part of you. You can’t resist me. You can’t just go cold turkey. That’s not how this works, cariño.”

 

“Stop calling me that! You’re not Iaoel!”

 

“I will call you however I want to.” Iaoel held Andal’s wrists above him with one hand. “I will ruin cariño for you. You will never be able to hear the damn word again without thinking of me. I will destroy the word most precious to you.”

 

“STOP IT! PLEASE!”

 

Iaoel gripped Andal’s waist, a few fingers sliding into his pants. “Cariño.”

 

“I’M BEGGING YOU, STOP IT!”

 

Iaoel pressed his head onto Andal’s shoulder, letting his tongue flick out against his neck. “Cariño.”

 

Andal gave a wordless wail of agony, tears going down his face.

 

Iaoel yanked Andal’s ponytail, making him tilt his head back and bare his neck. “Cariño,” he purred before biting straight in ruthlessly, drawing blood while bucking his hips forward. He only pulled his teeth out when Andal stopped screaming. “Your body is mine, your mind is mine. So just give me your will, cariño.”

 

“Iaoel...” Andal sobbed.

 

“Yes, cariño?” Iaoel grinded against Andal again.

 

“Iaoel...Mi rey...” Andal gasped.

 

Iaoel licked up the blood flowing down Andal’s neck. “Say it. Say it, cariño.”

 

“I give you my will!” Andal whined, eyes flaming red.

 

“See? That leech on your soul is still there. I still have my entire grip on you.” Iaoel purred, and nipped Andal’s ear. “You are safe in my grasp. You are in danger everywhere else. So sleep in my arms.”

 

Immediately, Andal passed out. He sagged into Iaoel, who easily caught him. He only threw him over his shoulder carelessly, ignoring the fact he probably opened a lot of wounds by carrying him that way.

 

Habitually, Iaoel checked Andal’s hand, looking at the whitening fingers. “Deterioration is happening faster than I expected. Thankfully, it isn’t on the arm imbued with chrono magic. Then, his use will be abruptly over, and his lifespan will go from a few months to a few days.”

 

The trip back was easy. Umbrati teleportation was fairly simple, especially when it was in the Umbra Mondo itself. On that note, it was fairly funny that the so-called Insurrection’s Abyss thought a mere straitjacket could keep him locked up. Regardless, he was out of the base with Andal in minutes, though at the mere downside of not being able to grab the location of the resistance before he teleported out.

 

Once his feet hit the ground, he tossed aside Andal onto the bed. They stood in the room they shared, though it was only with the bare necessities, so it could be described as a prison cell with a valid exit. He could see that indeed, a lot of wounds have reopened, but he decided he’ll deal with them later.

 

Iaoel left, but not before locking the door. The door could only be locked from the outside, giving it even more of a prison feel. Whatever kept Andal in, Iaoel was fine with.

 

He took no more than two steps before realizing Fox was there, watching him. “You two have been gone for a few days.”

 

“We were captured by the enemy,” Iaoel answered. “But it all worked spectacularly in our favor. First off, we know that it was the resistance in the Umbra Mondo that stole a large chunk of our data. The one that calls itself Insurrection’s Abyss.”

 

“The one led by Kurami?” Fox questioned.

 

“You know her.”

 

He sighed. “She worked with me once. But I feel she had her true loyalties from the start. No doubt she would have stabbed me in the back, if given the chance. I think the only reason she worked for me is because I had a friend of hers, and she wanted to save him.” Fox laughed. “He died soon after she faked her death to scurry back into her burrow.”

 

“I see. Secondly, Andal’s deterioration is happening much faster than Mirage’s. His right hand has shown signs of deterioration weeks before you thought it would.”

 

Fox looked surprised at that, though only slightly. “A more rapid deterioration? Could it be because of you?”

 

Iaoel shrugged. “It is the only logical conclusion. He was given only a couple more months to live.”

 

“Well, at least it isn’t his left hand,” Fox settled. “Otherwise, we might lose his chrono powers when the deterioration spreads up his arm.”

 

Iaoel paused for a moment. “The third piece of information, I feel, is most crucial to your grand scheme. While reading Andal’s memories to see what I missed, I came upon a part that struck me as odd. They were talking about Uldren Sov.”

 

Fox huffed. “So? He’s just a soldier.”

 

“To us, yes. But the woman named Parisia said that she knows his future. He plays a big part in your supposed downfall. So big, that if she told you, you would, and I quote from her own mouth, ‘have a meltdown’.”

 

Fox’s face twitched, and his fists clenched. He was obviously thinking about this new fact. His mind raced to try and come to the logical conclusion of what could possibly cause him to have a fit over one person.

 

Finally, he grunted. “How’s Seraphina’s studies?”

 

“On the halfbreed?” Iaoel questioned. “Well, she says she’s making progress.”

 

“Tell her to go faster. The sooner she completes her study, the faster we can disprove Parisia’s claim and kill Uldren by his own friend’s hands.”


	9. Darling Donella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Seraphina/Sigma  
> -Fox  
> -Mirage (mentioned)  
> -Keith (mentioned)  
> -Kurami  
> -Parisia  
> -Donella
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> As Seraphina researches increasingly morally dubious tasks, Kurami steals one for her own.

Seraphina investigated the small vial of blood, leaning in her chair. Her entire outfit was mostly armored, but one arm was completely bare. This arm drummed against the table in an idle manner, seeming to be bored out of her mind.

 

The arm flared up in blue fire, streams of it wisping up.  _ “Are you done with your pointless study yet?” _

 

“Not yet, Sigma,” Seraphina murmured in response. “I still have yet to isolate the recessive Galra genes.”

 

_ “It cannot be as hard as you paint it to be!” _ Sigma complained.

 

“It is! To not damage his gene strain, I have to somehow make him to be able to shift between his dominant and recessive genes flawlessly, as if he was putting a different pair of socks on every once in a while.”

 

_ “Did you really need to use socks as an analogy?” _

 

“Just shut up and let me concentrate,” Seraphina bit back. “I also need to figure out how to stop Mirage’s deterioration.”

 

Sigma groaned.  _ “Fox said there is no hope for stopping that.” _

 

“I have to try! He’s my love!”

 

_ “I know you don’t reciprocate the amount of love Mirage gives you.”  _ Seraphina paused. _ “You barely know him, so it’s marginally hard to fall in love with him, especially when he, you know, kills people and is slowly dying.” _

 

“You used to kill people too!” Seraphina snarked. “Remember carpet bombing Abel City when you were a Reploid?”

 

_ “I do not remember that!”  _ Sigma screeched. _ “Whatever happened to amnesiacs being innocent?!” _

 

“That’s never been a thing!” She responded.

 

_ “Guardians?” _

 

“That is their own thing, due to a lack of Guardians these days. It has never been a law that amnesiacs are excluded from their crimes. You’re not a Guardian, so you’re not excused.”

 

_ “Don’t amnesiacs forget everything, including their personality or trauma?” _

 

“I understand trauma, but I find it hard to have a new personality when you lose your memories.”

 

_ “What if your personality was created by your trauma?” _

 

“Well, then I guess that’s an exception. One of the rare ones.” Seraphina tapped her chin. “You went Maverick because of the virus being passed on to you during a mission out. As I am a Reploid, and I feel no ill effects, it may be so that you no longer have the virus. However, you still are a warlord parasite that just won’t shut up about murder, so I have that going for me, which is nice.”

 

_ “Stop calling me a parasite!” _

 

“But that is what you are.”

 

_ “No, I am not!” _

 

“Sigma, the definition of a parasite is ‘an organism that lives in or on an organism of another species, its host, and benefits by deriving nutrients at the other's expense.’ I feel that describes you well.”

 

_ “Do I harm you? No. I prefer to be called a symbiote. ‘An organism in a partnership with another such that each profits from their being together.’” _

 

Seraphina paused. “Please don’t tell me you got that from the comics.”

 

_ “It is a COINCIDENCE!” _

 

There was a knock at the door of the science-filled room. Seraphina’s head tilted up, letting her messy bangs visibly poke up everywhere. At least the rest of her hair was in a ponytail now swept against her back.

 

“Come in!” She called.

 

The door swung open, and boots clicked in. Fox observed the area, hands behind his back, as always. “Seraphina,” he greeted curtly.

 

Seraphina nodded in answer. “Lord Fox.”

 

He glanced over to her pile of notes. “How goes your projects?”

 

“Well, the isolating of the Galra genes is significantly...easier than I thought it would be,” Seraphina admitted. “I thought I was doing rocket science here. With this progress, I expect results in a week at a minimum, two to three months at most.”

 

Fox nodded slowly. “And the updates on the child?”

 

Seraphina lowered her papers. She blinked a few times, then did another glance at Fox. “Excuse me?”

 

“The Altean child. I had specifically sent you orders and instructions involving soulcraft to use the energy source of quintessence to birth an Altean for my personal experiments.”

 

_ “We got no such orders,” _ Sigma confirmed to Seraphina.

 

“Neither I nor Sigma remember receiving orders like that. Perhaps you misplaced the message, or just forgot to send it?”

 

Fox scoffed. “Nonsense. I never forget to send out my orders.”

 

Seraphina returned to sorting out her papers. “Well, we never got them. Now, if you excuse me, I would like to return to my work, so that the finished production of the isolation of the Galra genes can actually fit the standard I’ve given myself.”

 

Fox nodded slowly, as if thinking. “Yes...I will. And I’ll attempt to find the data we’ve apparently misplaced.”

 

Seraphina ducked her head as Fox began to leave. Her frizzy ponytail didn’t do anything in helping her state of sleep deprivation. Bringing out the pen, she began to write in black ink that glimmered in the light on her table before drying.

 

“Oh, Seraphina?” She looked back up at Fox. He stood by the doorway, a hand gripping the knob. “Do stop trying to slow Mirage’s deterioration. It isn’t helping your health, and I need you to do other things.”

 

Seraphina nodded. “Yes, Lord Fox.”

 

With him returning the nod again, he slipped out, closing the door behind him. With that, she was completely alone in the room. It was only lit by the lantern holding violet light on her desk. The papers in front of her were forgotten for a second just before she decided to return to them.

 

Sigma came back with a hum.  _ “You do need to stop focusing on Mirage. You’re only making our situation worse.” _

 

Seraphina made a noise that sounded like a scoff. “And leave him to die. What a wonderful idea.”

 

_ “There is no cure to deterioration. Fox said it was a condition Mirage was born with. It’s a miracle he’s lived to this long.” _

 

“What if Fox lied?” Seraphina suggested. “What if he wasn’t born with it? I’ve never heard of a disease that calcifies your skin and spreads up your body, starting from your fingertips.”

 

_ “Well, what else do you think it could be?” _ Sigma questioned.

 

Seraphina shook her head. “I don’t know. But I want to know if it can be stopped.” She sighed. “Now I have three experiments running at once. Keith, Mirage, and that child.”

 

_ “You’ll only have the third one if Fox realizes his mistake,” _ Sigma pointed out.  _ “A man like him will never reveal his mistake.” _

 

Only giving an amused grin, Seraphina returned to looking at her papers. “We’ll see.”

 

Far away, as she began to thumb through the slips once more, a hand connected with the wall. The knuckles began to bleed, but Petra didn’t care. She didn’t even feel the pain.

 

Parisia watched her outburst calmly. “You know, making a dent in a wall won’t remove Kurami’s hold on you,” she lightly mused. 

 

The Awoken looked over. Her black sclera did nothing to shade her glowing irises, and her veins were a slightly darker shade of blue. Besides that, no physical change was present.

 

“Once Mara Sov heard of this, she will declare war!” Petra yelled at the chrono angel.

 

Parisia didn’t even blink. “Mara has other matters besides one person going missing, Venj. First of all. Second of all, are you even sure she’s noticed you’re gone, since she hasn’t spoken to you in months, perhaps years at this point?”

 

“You have no right to question that!” Petra shrieked. She was obviously put on edge by what had just happened to her.

 

“Hey, hey. Ladies.” Calm as ever, Kurami strolled up. “Calm down. What seems to be the problem?”

 

“You’re the problem!” Petra declared.

 

She merely shrugged. “In what? I know I’m the problem for a lot of things, so you might need to clarify some more.”

 

Petra pointed at the veins on her face. “For this!”

 

“Oh. Yes. Honestly, that was necessary, because again, if you took Uldren, universe is dead.” Kurami sighed. “How many times do I have to repeat that to you?”

 

Parisia noticed Petra’s rage at a boiling point, and quickly attempted to change the subject. “So, do you need either of us?” She asked.

 

Kurami hummed. “Well...What was I going to ask...?” She rubbed her chin. “Hm...Oh. Oh, yea!” Her face lit up. “I need to borrow you for a second, Parisia. It won’t take long.”

 

“Alright. I’ll be back, Petra.”

 

Petra only grumbled, “I won’t be waiting.” She made her exit, slipping into the shadows of the dimly lit hallway and going through one of the numerous doors.

 

Seeming to be oblivious to the fact that not even a few days ago, Kurami brutally converted the Awoken to their side, the rebel leader innocently mused, “Did she wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

 

Parisia sighed. “What is it that you want from me, Kurami?”

 

Immediately, the black-cloaked woman grabbed Parisia and pulled her aside into another room. It immediately sent flags in Parisia’s head when she saw Kurami close and even lock the door. Whatever they were about to talk about, it was for her ears only.

 

Kurami turned, leaning on the hand still pressed on the door. “What would you say if I used darkness and stolen quintessence to create a baby?”

 

“I would hope that you are the mother type,” Parisia responded. “And also ask what the hell is wrong with you.”

 

Kurami only made a spinning motion with her finger. “Look behind you.”

 

Parisia paused, then dared to look over her shoulder. She only now noticed that the room was set up to be a baby’s room, with a crib nestled in the corner and a basket of toys and such strewn across the floor. The mobile above the crib was spinning, and now that they were both quiet, Parisia could hear soft giggling.

 

She sighed. “Oh, Kurami,” she murmured.

 

Kurami had an innocent expression. “She’s adorable.”

 

Parisia placed both hands on the crib and looked down into it. The baby in the crib was of dark skin, darker than Kurami’s. Her irises were as deep purple as her glowing Altean markings peppered below her eyes. She now stared at the chrono angel, eyes wide with what seemed to be wonder at the new person.

 

“You created a child,” Parisia murmured in obvious wonder.

 

“I’ve named her Donella,” Kurami said. “Do you like it?”

 

“You’re a rebel leader. How will you keep an eye on her?”

 

Kurami grinned. “I’m already working on that. Don’t need to worry, Pari girl.”

 

“I will worry as much as I want to!” Parisia suddenly snapped, and Donella whimpered, so she lowered her voice. “My daughter was forced down a path by horrible people that taught her all about war and grief. I tried to protect her, but I failed, and they turned her against me. And now, she’s created an opponent of the Umbra Mondo, and has delusions of grandeur with one timeline somehow conquering the entire existence of darkness! The same may happen to your child.”

 

“It happened because of actions you couldn’t control.” Kurami grew serious immediately. “Your child has taken a different path than you, one you fear and cower in front of. And you’ve spent the last few years doing nothing but combating that fear. What’s it called when you’re afraid of darkness?”

 

“When it’s severe, nyctophobia.”

 

“Yea. You had that. And in order to really survive outside of the Walkways, you conquered it.” Kurami paused. “You didn’t have to stay. If you pestered me enough, I would have let you go, even before my own goal was completed. You could have just left to go back to the Walkways, and that would have been it. But you stuck around.”

 

Parisia nodded. “Because I knew that the path laid before me was the correct path. I couldn’t diverge from it.”

 

“That’s the spirit, Pari girl.” Kurami grinned. “Now, can you watch over her for at least a couple of hours? I need to finish my other project. You know, the one that’s gonna solve the babysitter problem.”

 

Parisia chuckled, and there was a hint of warmth to it. “I’ll keep a good eye on her.”

 

“You’re the best!” Kurami strutted out, grinning. “I’ll be back soon, so make sure Donella doesn’t spontaneously combust!”

 

Parisia looked down at the Altean, then at the closed door. “Wait, do Altean babies actually do that?”


	10. The Crimson Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Redwood  
> -Kurami  
> -Cayde-6  
> -Takumi (mentioned)  
> -Axl/Gefangene (mentioned)
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> An old ally returns and the events of the entire story are recapped.

“Please work...Please be working. This was my last chance to bring you back, old man. I don’t even know if your soul is connected to your data core anymore. Just please work. I got a kid. I want you to meet her. So please come back, Redwood.”

 

Systems gave him the all go. All of his mechanisms seemed to be working properly. Finally, he was slightly jolted awake to come to his senses, as if he had been sleeping this whole time.

 

His eyes whirred and clicked, then finally focused on the best vision for seeing more clearly in the darkness around him. The different shades of black registered, and he could immediately tell the difference between Kurami’s coat and the natural dark.

 

Redwood opened his mouth to speak for the first time in five years. “Kurami?”

 

The woman lifted her head from resting it on the table he was laying on. A single tear was making its way down the left side of her face, plinking down onto the metal. Her amber eyes blinked once, then twice, as if registering the sudden movement.

 

“Redwood?” Kurami whispered in a hoarse tone.

 

To respond, he raised a hand and wiped any remaining tears away, smiling. “Don’t cry. You’re cuter when you smile.”

 

He was yanked suddenly into a tight hug. Kurami pressed her face into his shoulder, making small whimpering noises. Her fingers dug into his back, threatening to actually tear into his circuits. Instead of sitting still and taking it, he began to gently rub her head, pressing kisses to her soft white hair.

 

“What’s wrong?” He murmured quietly.

 

“Redwood, it’s been five years,” she immediately stated. “The Otherworlder War ended a long time ago.”

 

Redwood paused. “I...I don’t understand. Why did it take five years to...”

 

“Fox stole your data and archived it. I had no idea he had it.” Kurami sniffled. “I only found it by pure luck, when we were stealing a large amount of data from him the other week. And then there was the problem of reconnecting your soul in the afterlife with the data core. I should have found out sooner.”

 

He began to pat her hair again. “I’m sure it isn’t your fault. Fox would like to make you think it is.” He groaned, realizing something. “You said it was five years. Fox is still alive, even after the war ended?”

 

“He’s a sturdy, snake son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.” Kurami finally pulled away, rubbing her sleeves against her eyelids. “He got help, though.”

 

Redwood managed to sit up, and looked at himself. He was in a much more armored and spiky chassis, with a tattered cape that wrapped around him, and was as black as Kurami’s coat. His dusty blonde hair was replaced by a more of a light brown, which wasn’t slicked back into a curled point, but dropping down around his face as it covered his left eye.

 

He looked back at Kurami. “Axl and Takumi,” he murmured. “Are they both okay?”

 

As he flexed his fingers, Kurami visibly paused. “Axl’s doing better. He’s managed to get a better hold on Gefangene. You know, the virus Fox put in him?” Redwood nodded, signalling he was understanding. “They work like a duo, last I heard.”

 

“And Takumi? How’s his condition?”

 

Kurami stopped again, looking down. “He got a new arm when the last one was mauled. Reploid. He decided to stay in our world to find his sister.” Kurami hesitated. “...Yea. You just missed him.”

 

“Is he coming back?” Redwood questioned.

 

“No, I mean...he’s dead. Fox got some of his guys to kill him and Cedar’s husband.”

 

Kurami looked up again. Redwood had frozen entirely, staring at Kurami. His entire body went slack, merely sitting up now. His fingers were gripping the cloak that wrapped his entire body, and Kurami could see he was tearing it a little.

 

“He’s dead,” Redwood murmured. “And it’s my fault.”

 

“What?!” Kurami was shocked. “How’d you come to that conclusion?!”

 

“You said that he stayed in our world to find his sister. If I never helped turn her into a Reploid in the first place-”

 

“Old man, even if we weren’t with Fox, he still would have kidnapped Sakura!” Kurami retorted suddenly. “It isn’t our fault he’s dead. It’s Fox’s.”

 

Redwood gave a long sigh, and looked up at the ceiling. “What have I missed?” He asked to nobody in particular.

 

Kurami tried hard to resume her careless personality, though her eyes were still red from crying. “Oh, do you really wanna know?”

 

“Kurami, what could have possibly happened in five years?”

 

“I’ll answer by calling my friend. He was a pal of Takumi’s.” Kurami grinned, pushing herself back so her swivel chair would go backwards. “Once you see him, you’ll probably think a lot has happened.”

 

Redwood glanced as she picked up a communicator. “What do you mean?”

 

Kurami ignored him, inside speaking into the communicator. “Hey, Spades. Are you busy? ...No? Good. I want you to meet someone. ...No, you’re not killing him. ...And no, you're not killing somebody with him. Honestly, do you really expect me to do that to you? You’re not some lackey to me. ...Okay, yea. See you in a minute.”

 

As she hung up, Redwood stepped off of the operating table, making sure to keep a hand on it. “Who was that?”

 

Kurami gestured to the spot next to her. “You’ll see, though you might want to sit down.”

 

Slowly, he got back onto the operating table, sitting upright. “Okay...?”

 

A glitching effect appeared a few feet to the right of Kurami. Redwood immediately leaned back, alarm flashing across his face. However, a quick signal from the woman conveyed that this was supposed to happen, and he relaxed. Both of them began to watch the hologram take form.

 

Cayde was sitting in a chair pointed at Kurami. One arm was strewn over the back of it, and the back of his head was leaned back, as well. He looked over at Redwood, who stared slack-jawed at the Exo.

 

He raised a hand, and waved it. “Hey there,” he greeted Redwood, throat lighting up and taking Redwood by further surprise.

 

“This is Cayde-6, ex-Hunter Vanguard and Exo.” Kurami paused, then her face lit up. “Oh! And do you remember the princess of Mavericks? Liberty?”

 

Redwood nodded. “Yes?”

 

“He’s her husband, too. And by this point of time, she goes by Lucy-1, since she got amnesia.”

 

“You’re right,” Redwood groaned. “I have missed a lot.”

 

Kurami smiled. “Spades, meet my old man. His name is Redwood.”

 

“Your husband?” Cayde questioned.

 

“Yep. That’s the one.”

 

“She talked about me?” Redwood tilted his head.

 

“A lot. Somethin’ about you being the light of her life of darkness and all.” Cayde laughed as Kurami’s face flushed under her hood.

 

Redwood seemed to realize something. “Wait, is what is happening now connected with your past of darkness, Kurami?”

 

Kurami gave a finger gun. “Right on the money, old man. The long story short is, a millennia-long prophecy has finally enacted, and in about a year or so, the universe as we know it will either be destroyed or saved.” She shrugged. “That’s life for you.”

 

“The universe will be destroyed?!”

 

“It could be!” Cayde retorted. “Did you not listen to what your wife just said?”

 

Kurami spun a finger. “Long, long ago, when a Luxonia girl and an Umbrati boy came together, they made little hybrid babies. The universe didn’t like that, see, and literally cursed their entire bloodline.” She held up two fingers. “The more direct descendents of the Umbrati would eventually have the Shadow Incarnate, who would be the most powerful user of dark magic. Meanwhile, the more direct descendents of the Luxonia would have the Light Incarnate, who would be the most powerful user of light magic. These two were destined to fight each other to the death to save the universe.”

 

“However, a complication arose,” Cayde continued. “The initial Shadow Incarnate, Darios, was murdered way before the prophecy was truly initiated. So from there, the title began to transfer. It usually works in the way that if you killed the Shadow Incarnate, you would then become the next Shadow Incarnate.”

 

“Like that game where you kill somebody by releasing them from a cursed throne, only to take their place,” Kurami clarified, but quickly got back on track. “The current Shadow Incarnate was the one that killed Darios. She’s called the Shadow Queen. Even I don’t know her name!”

 

“And that Otherworlder Reploid you met probably once? Rowan?”

 

Redwood nodded. “He sounds familiar.”

 

“He’s the one and only Light Incarnate.” Cayde nodded along with his own words.

 

Kurami smiled. “So yea, those two need to duke it out somewhere along the line. Though judging by what I know from a good friend of mine, it won’t go the way either of them wants it to.”

 

Redwood decided to let that cryptic message slide. “Okay...But how did Liberty turn into Lucy-1?”

 

“The Shadow Queen threw a hissy fit over her!” Kurami proudly declared. “It was her position as the heart of her army that caused them to band together and beat the crap out of her lackey Fox.” Redwood looked surprised. “Yea, Fox works for her. Anyways, she decided in a fit of rage to kill every Liberty in the universe. Most succeeded, a few probably slipped out of her sight due to there being way too many timelines, and one wound up bleeding out in Cayde’s world, being hit in the head so hard that they have no memory of who they were before.”

 

Cayde scratched his head. “I met her, named her, got her on her feet, and before I knew it? I had a weddin’ ring on my finger and a daughter. It was instantaneous, just like that.”

 

Redwood chuckled. “Strange how children can arrive so suddenly in our lives, yes?”

 

Kurami grinned. “Oh, yea. His daughter has a future self under a different name that exists in the present, formed the toughest opponent the Shadow Queen faces, and is dating the Light Incarnate.”

 

Cayde threw his hands in the air as Redwood gaped one more. “That’s life for you, buddy!”

 

“She also is the most powerful of her species. She looks human, but she isn’t.”

 

“Please slow down!” Redwood begged. “Repeat that again!”

 

Cayde raised two fingers. “I have two daughters. They’re the same person. One is just a future version of the other. She’s what the younger one could possibly grow up to be.”

 

“She travelled back in time, or just hopped into a timeline of the past, to form an opposing force against the Shadow Queen,” Kurami continued.

 

“And she dates the Light Incarnate.” Cayde shrugged. “He’s actually really sweet and cool. I wouldn’t mind havin’ him for a son-in-law.”

 

Redwood exhaled slowly, hands trembling a bit. “Al...right.”

 

“Of course, there’s the problem of that timeline duplicating in the universe’s natural process or being consumed by light or darkness.” Kurami gave a half-sided grin. “That’s why the Incarnate’s GF rendered the timeline immune from duplicating of consuming with her powers as a chrono angel!”

 

“I...might need to read up on a lot of things after this talk,” Redwood found himself murmuring.

 

“One more thing before you do that.” Kurami grinned. “I got a baby girl.”

 

“You WHAT?!” Redwood screamed.

 

“Relax! I didn’t cheat on you! I just stole some data from Fox, figured out he was trying to make an artificial baby, then did it myself!”

 

“You’re a lunatic,” her faithful husband murmured.

 

“Genius.”

 

“Lunatic.”

 

Kurami raised her hands. “Alright, I guess you don’t want to see your daughter.”

 

Immediately, Redwood got up, though he teetered a bit. “I can see her?”

 

“Yea! She’s kind of your kid, you know? Why should I tell you you can’t see her? That’s cruel, wrong, and would probably stunt her mental health growing up!”

 

Redwood rolled his eyes, then his smile faded, and he frowned. It looked like an icepick had just been forced into his chest.

 

“What if it happens again?” He questioned. “I lose our daughter, like I lost both Axl and Takumi? And it would be entirely my fault?”

 

“Old man...” Kurami whimpered. “Don’t think like that.”

 

“After what happened, it’s really the only way I can think.” Redwood shrugged.

 

“Hey.” Cayde scooched his chair, so it made a noise that grabbed Redwood’s attention. “It’s normal to be scared for your kid, alright? I remember seein’ Lucy walk into her apartment with a baby in her arms. I didn’t know what to do. We talked, and decided that we’ll keep her. It was the second-best decision I’ve made in my life. Second only to proposin’ to her mommy. You can’t let fear and despair hold you back. You gotta take the initiative. You may crash and burn, but it’s better than abandonin’ it altogether.”

 

Redwood slowly nodded, “Y...Yea. You are right.”

 

Before he realized it, Kurami was back on her feet. She was looping both her arms around one of Redwood’s, like a happily married couple. “Well, come on! You can’t keep our baby waiting!”

 

Redwood rolled his eyes, but still cracked a bit of a smile. “You know we’re still going to have a talk about you faking your death, right?”

 

Kurami began pulling along Redwood. “You know, she’s very cute!”

 

Cayde could be heard laughing as Redwood chided, “Kurami.”

 

“She’s got these adorable, glowing markings!”

 

“Kurami!”

 

“She’s a total sweetheart, gets it from her daddy!”

 

“KURAMI!”


	11. Lightless Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Shandra  
> -Diablo-4  
> -Andal Brask  
> -"Iaoel"  
> -The Shadow Queen  
> -Mirage  
> -Fox
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Deterioration speeds up, and its horrendous side effects on the body are revealed. WARNING: If you are squeamish about body horror, this is not the chapter for you.

Shandra named her sword Olvido. Its blade glistened ebony black, and a purple gem glistened in its hilt. It was a gift to her, long ago, when she was a Guardian. She barely remembers who gave it to her. All that matters now is that it fights for the correct side in the Alliance-Umbra War.

 

Diablo-4 never named his shotgun. He thought it was trivial to call it a name when there was no point to. Shandra relentlessly teases him for this, pointing out that all guns and swords have a name. He bantered back with pointing out that nobody names their swords and scythes these days. He got slugged in the face by the Druid Aerioi as a result.

 

Andal’s blade was christened ‘Proposal Vows’. It was whispered to him by Iaoel, always sending soothing words into his ears. It had a bitter feeling to it, as it reminded him of what could have been, a magnificent wedding with Iaoel finally marrying the true person of his dreams. Iaoel merely remarked that it was motivation to keep working, to finally reach days of peace so they can be married.

 

Andal lost feeling in his right arm a month and a half after he was consumed by darkness. It happened so suddenly, he was not prepared for it in time, most likely due to never really being informed about it.

 

The Aerioi usually gathered in the outskirts of Shadow’s Heart. They never hung around Umbrati, finding that they were scared away due to their much more humane complexions. Iaoel was the closest thing to an Umbrati amongst them, and he had those piercing, glowing blue eyes that held no twinkle of determination or any glimmer of emotion.

 

All four of them hung in an alleyway, chatting like old friends. All of them had canteens, filled to the brim with warm Griso Blossom Tea. Andal didn’t even like it, but he drank it just to be polite. The Shadow Queen went out of her way to brew them the tea, and even threw in a basket of pastries. She really was too nice to be the ruler of darkness.

 

Diablo was speaking, his canteen to his mouth. “I’m just saying, Fox will definitely win against the Shadow Queen in a fight.”

 

“You lie!” Shandra retorted as Diablo took a swig. “She can best him any day with her magic!”

 

“Yes, but Fox is her closest companion,” Andal pointed out. “If he ever turned against her, she would probably put up no fight, in my personal opinion.”

 

“Are you siding with Fox because he’s a strong, tough guy?!”

 

Diablo shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you siding with the Queen because she is a graceful, kind gal?”

 

Shandra paused, but was saved by Andal coughing from either swallowing too much tea, or coming down with something. She looked over to see him pounding his chest and clearing his throat before straightening up, looking back up at her.

 

“That cough is really getting bad,” she quickly murmured.

 

Diablo paid heed to it, as well. “Shandra has a point, Andal. Are you sure you’re alright?”

 

“I’ve gone to Lord Fox numerous times, Diablo. Every time, he told me I am completely fine, that it is a passing cold.”

 

“Everytime, it’s gotten worse,” Shandra pointed out.

 

Iaoel huffed. “He is fine, you two. You both are just acting a bit paranoid.”

 

As Andal doubled over to cough into his hand, Shandra replied, “We’re not paranoid. We’re just worried for the health of our friend.”

 

Andal sounded extremely bad. His coughs were wheezy, and he had to clean to spit something out on the ground. Diablo went still when he recognized the dark red coloring of the liquid.

 

“You might need serious medical attention,” Shandra said, walking over to Andal.

 

The closer she got, the more putrid an odd smell became. She stumbled back, fringing her face in disgust. Andal immediately looked confused at this. Shandra shoved down her sudden sickness and pulled forward, taking hold of Andal’s arm.

 

“Listen, Andal,” she gagged, pulling on his arm to get him up. “We really need to-”

 

With a crumbling snap, as if chalk was being broken, Andal’s entire lower arm detached, white powder sprinkling out. It pulled straight out of his sleeve, taking his glove with it.

 

Shandra stood there. In her hand was part of an arm, pure white and flaky. It had disconnected, leaving only the elbow and the rest of the arm. At the base of the tear, not a single drop of blood came out. The flesh underneath was a sickly black and green, and it smelled like death itself. Parts of it dripped out and collected on the ground, taking more of a liquid, rotten form, like a piece of fruit that had sat out for too long. It belonged less to a perfectly healthy man, and more of a zombie.

 

It slipped out of her fingers. It shattered into a million pieces, evaporating into a black sludge, a white, chalk-like substance, and a brittle bone that snapped in two when it hit the ground. Shandra ignored the horrifying mess at her feet. All she could think of was that Andal’s sleeve hung down, empty from the elbow downwards.

 

Diablo screamed first. It sounded significantly higher-pitched than his normal tone. Shandra didn’t blame him for it. Not at all. He certainly handled it better compared to her leaning over and vomiting straight onto the ground.

 

Andal was dead silent. His face had gone completely pale. There was no sign of him having felt the pain, no scream of pain or alarm being emanated. He only stared at the remains of his deteriorated lower right arm on the ground, blinked once, then let his eyes roll up into the back of his head as he fainted.

 

Iaoel immediately lunged forward, sliding. He caught Andal before he could hit the ground. He didn’t look concerned in any form. He just looked mildly irritated, at best.

 

He picked up Andal’s limp form, calmly and as if it just wasn’t revealed his lover’s arm was practically rotting. “Let’s go to the castle,” he ordered the two Aerioi fireteam members watching with horrified expressions.

 

Shandra gulped visibly. “O...Okay, Iaoel.”

 

Despite Andal’s condition, Iaoel was in no rush. While the two Aerioi members ran forward, then back to return to Andal, he was having a brisk walk. There was no change in his expression when they began to scream at him to hurry up. His only change in mood came in disgust, when his face curled up as a clump of black flesh dropped out of Andal’s sleeve and onto the ground, getting some on Iaoel’s leg in the process.

 

Finally, when it took a few minutes to even get down the street, Diablo rudely yanked Andal out of Iaoel’s arms. “Let’s go!” he yelled before taking off, Shandra right behind him.

 

Iaoel looked enraged at this. “You do not just take him from me!” he yelled at them. When they didn’t respond, he groaned in agitation before giving chase through Shadow’s Heart, Andal held close to the Brute Aerioi’s chest. 

 

The obviously ill man entered a coughing fit in his sleep a short distance away from the castle, and Diablo looked down to time to see him enter a spasm. He immediately stopped and set him down, only to lunge back when way too much blood was promptly vomited. The blood stained Andal’s clothes almost immediately, making it look as if he had murdered someone.

 

“Oh my god,” Diablo murmured.

 

Shandra whipped out her com. “I’m calling the Shadow Queen,” she whispered, her voice shaking and on the verge of collapse.

 

Before Shandra even hung up a minute later, she had arrived. Running surprisingly fast for someone in a dress, the Queen bolted out of the darkness she had used to teleport to make it over to the four. She said nothing, but only knelt down and cupped Andal’s face.

 

He looked even worse than before. Death pulled on his complexion, making his cheeks sink into his stark-white face. Blood coated him, dripping down out of the corners of his mouth. The Queen gently took an eyelid and lifted it up to stare at his eyes. They were completely dull and stared off into the distance, but Andal was still breathing.

 

“Deterioration,” she declared in a horrified tone. “Fox said it wouldn’t get this bad for months.”

 

Shandra pointed at the black, rotten liquid now pooling by Andal’s right hand. There was so much, too much of the stuff. “That’s deterioration?!” she screeched.

 

The Shadow Queen picked up Andal. “It’s sped up,” she replied to mostly herself. “His lifespan has gone from a couple of months to...a couple of weeks or days.” After a moment, she looked back. “I’m taking him to the med bay. Return whenever you want.”

 

In a blast of smoke, the Shadow Queen was gone. Shadow magic picked her up and returned her to the castle, leaving the two Aerioi and Iaoel standing there in pure shock.

 

Finally, Iaoel only scoffed. “See? We weren’t in a rush or anything.”

 

Neither even responded to him. They gave him looks of shock and pure rage, but did nothing. They each merely placed on their helmets and walked off. Just like that, Iaoel was alone, his cold blue eyes staring as they went.

 

They walked for a few steps, then Diablo burst into running first. Shandra didn’t care when they startled Umbrati civilians around them. In fact, she began to run faster than Diablo not a few seconds later. Both Aerioi fireteam members abandoned the streets, beginning to trip their way up the steps to the main entrance of the castle in Shadow’s Heart.

 

When they slammed in, the entire entry room was deathly silent. No lights were on, and no Umbrati lingered around. Both looked around, then began to navigate through the castle to find their way to the medical bay.

 

In another part of the castle, Fox was inspecting a completely naked Mirage, revealing his body. Instead of a normal human complexion, his entire chest was a metal frame encapsulating green, bubbly liquid. He didn’t it even had reproductive organs, instead having a bronze casing for his crotch. Inside the canister, his organs were still connected, but just floated around with no set position in mind. His blood vessels looked like tiny strings of spaghetti. His shoulders and thighs were of the same bronze coloring of the frame, but his arms, legs, and head were still mostly flesh. Mostly.

 

“I see...” Fox inspected closely Mirage’s hand. It was now as chalky white as Andal’s disconnected arm was. “How long did it take for this to happen?”

 

Mirage idly watched his lungs expand and contract in the chest canister. “It started the exact day I woke up with no memory.”

 

“I see. So it took about...say, three to four months?”

 

“Indeed, Lord Fox.”

 

Fox shrugged. “Well, there is no saving it. It’s a natural process of your body. This disease is what took your main body and your eyes, after all.”

 

Mirage rubbed the area around his glowing eyes. “And you said Andal has it, too.”

 

“Andal has shown signs of a much more rapid deterioration. He still has a few months to live, even if I don’t engineer a chest container like you have.” Fox paused. “And even then, it only gives you a few more months or years. Your disease is directly connected to your soul, with no chance of removing it.”

 

Mirage shook his head. “Yes, I know. But can you treat my hand?”

 

“Well, when the deterioration hits a hand like this, it’s common that it may fall off.” Fox looked at Mirage’s mouth gaping in shock. “So I will have to amputate it and drain out the rotten flesh.”

 

“It’s rotting?!”

 

“Yes. I presume that any sane man would want rotten flesh off of him.” Fox let go of Mirage’s hand. “Now, I have two methods. One is a more painless way, the other is more painful. But the painful way ensures a lot more of the rotten flesh is drained out, adding a few more weeks to your lifespan. The more rot gone, the better.”

 

Mirage’s heart beat a little bit faster as he said, “The more painful way, please.”

 

Fox nodded thoughtfully. “A wise choice indeed.” He made a swishing motion, and pulled a large knife out of the darkness that followed his hand. “I suggest you have something to bite down on.”

 

Mirage nodded as Fox pulled up in a chair, placing Mirage’s rotting hand on a tray. “How bad will it hurt?”

 

“Not that much.” Fox began to mark with a marker where to cut. “Most of the flesh has been rotten, so it acts as a natural numbing. However, it still will hurt, especially when I pick around to pull out the rotten flesh from the healthy parts.” He passed a strip of leather to Mirage. “Clench this between your teeth.” Mirage gave an odd expression. “It will help, I promise.”

 

Slowly, Mirage bit down on it. It tasted just as how he imagined leather to taste like. He winced at the feeling on his tongue, but continued to hold it in between his teeth.

 

“Now hold still,” he heard Fox say before he felt pain run up his arm, and heard the sound of the knife sinking into the cracked, rotten flesh. He yelped into the leather, but kept clenching his teeth.

 

As soon as he cut in, the rotten and greying liquid flesh poured out like a cyst. Fox winced at the putrid spell getting much worse once he made the first incision. The skin flaked and sank inwards with his knife, making a mess already. Fox began to move the knife back and forth in a sawing motion. He cut surprisingly easy through the rot, though the smell can easily ward somebody off.

 

It took about a minute, but Fox was satisfied as soon as he heard an audible crack. He had pierced the bone lying underneath, and had easily broke through it. The bone was even worse to leave in the body than the flesh, surprisingly. From here, it would be smooth sailing.

 

A half of a minute later, one last stroke severed the hand. The chalky skin as gone completely from Mirage’s arm, but miraculously, no blood poured out. Instead, a clear but almost tinted gray liquid did, dripping out slowly.

 

Fox moved the calcifying hand aside. No blood was coming out yet, so Fox’s job wasn’t being that hard on him. Snatching up a pair of tweezers, he began to pick around in the open flesh wound to pull out any deterioration.

 

Mirage definitely felt that. He growled, his arm twitching. A quick glance, and Fox could see his heart pounding fast while floating in the chest container’s liquid. Much more quicker breaths were taken, as well. However, it wasn’t interfering with his work, so he ignored it and continued.

 

Once the tweezers made sure no flakes of skin or rotten pieces were left on Mirage’s wrist, Fox leaned back to look. Not a single drop of blood was spilled, and Mirage was actually indifferent to losing his hand. He had to admit, he needed to give respect to that.

 

“I’ll have to craft you a metal hand,” Fox explained. “That means connecting the nerve cells, which I will surely have to put you under for.”

 

“I can take it,” Mirage almost bragged. “I survived my entire chest being replaced by a metal frame, at one point.”

 

Fox cracked a small smile. “Yes, of course you did. Now, you should hurry to the med bay, and declare that you require a metal hand. I’m not going to heal the wound, as it will just be cut open again to connect the nerves.” He chuckled. “Besides, it’s making no mess. Blood has ceased to flow to your wrist.”

 

Mirage stood up before bowing. “Thank you, Lord Fox,” he politely thanked him.

 

Fox shrugged as Mirage began to pull back on his multiple layers of clothing to hide his horrible deformities. “It is what I do.”

 

When Mirage was finished, Fox noted that he looked perfectly human. His clothing did well to disguise his chest canister and give the imitation it was a normal human body. Instead, underneath the navy blue cloth, his organs were just strung together and floating around in a container.

 

Fox returned to the book he had closed as Mirage left. Thumbing through the pages, he finally got to the part where he had stopped. The book had just revealed the protagonists and all of their friends will be killed for failing to complete the game of the antagonist. He didn’t like the protagonist, and their sidekick comic relief was very annoying to him. He was happy at the subtle shout outs and recurring elements to other installments of the series, however. The book series was always a favorite of his.

 

“Fox?” The Shadow Queen’s voice startled him out of his daze.

 

Fox looked up to see the Queen standing over him. “Hm?” He didn’t mean to sound irritated. He was just tired of people interrupting him at the climax.

 

“It’s Andal.”

 

He sighed. “Did Iaoel lose control of him?”

 

“His deterioration’s already consumed half of an arm.” Fox immediately shut up, eyes going wide. “And it’s only going faster. We’re only giving him a few days left to live, if even that.”

 

Fox closed his book, setting it to the side and standing up. “Medical bay?” He guessed.

 

“Getting the best of our medical care,” the Queen answered. “But it isn’t enough. And nobody can find Iaoel.”

 

Fox was already walking out of the door, putting his cape back on. “Get an Umbrati to clean that tray on my desk.”

 

“Can’t you just throw it out yourself?” The Queen huffed, but she still picked up the tray, cringing at the rotten hand on it. “I’ll do it myself.”

 

Fox immediately noticed the chatter going throughout the castle. A lot of Umbrati were growling at each other in their native language. All he picked up was basically a repeat of “The Prowler Aerioi is deteriorating faster than expected”. Well, none of them are wrong. He just wished it didn’t become the number-one topic of gossip so quickly.

 

The med bay was packed with Umbrati. Some were trying to see the ill man, others were trying to save his life. They all got out of the way the same when Fox entered, carrying an immensely threatening aura with him.

 

Fox made sure to use Umbrin when he looked at one of the nurses. “What’s his maximum life span?” He hated speaking Umbrin.

 

“We can only give him until the end of the week,” she growled back.

 

Fox paused. “And the minimum?”

 

“To be honest? At any minute or hour.”

 

The advisor finally looked to the side. The Spanish man laid in bed, completely devoid of clothes. That did not distract the Reploid from the white chalk on his broken right arm growing upwards, and beginning to collect on his right foot.

 

Fox pointed at the arm, which would look like a broken porcelain doll’s arm if flesh having rotten into a mushy liquid wasn’t pouring out and being collected by a huge bed of gauze. “What happened there?”

 

“According to the Druid Aerioi’s account, she took his hand, and his entire lower arm snapped off into her grip. She had no idea that such a thing would happen, and held his arm in a normal way.”

 

Fox slinked over to the side of the bed. Andal had once more returned to a pale and gaunt version of himself. He was almost completely fine just this morning. What had caused this sudden shift in physical health?

 

To test something, Fox placed his hand on the rotting foot. He didn’t grasp it. He just slowly, gradually, tightened his grip, starting small...

 

It crumbled apart. Black flesh exploded onto his hands, and the entire foot disintegrated into white ashes, falling onto the medical bed. Mirage’s hand would easily make it through much more pressure. He actually had to call upon his Reploid strength to begin cutting it off.

 

Fox, for once, looked positively horrified, looking at the sludge on his glove. “It’s so brittle, like a porcelain figurine,” he declared. “One hit could shatter his entire being. This is more than deterioration. He’s completely decomposing!”

 

Just a few floors above, Iaoel pulled on the knife clutched in his fist. It had dug so deep into the Ghost, wires were pulled up as well. He placed the bloodstained knife back onto his belt. As if it was a piece of art, he carefully rotated the destroyed Ghost, staring at it and its violet eye blinking out.

 

By his side, blood pooled at his foot. Shandra had multiple stab wounds over her body, most of the blood pouring out of her slit throat. Her hand twitched one last time, and her eyes were bloodshot with tears going down her face.

 

“I thought I told you,” Iaoel said, though he didn’t look at her. “I told you to stay away from my cariño. He is mine, and mine only.” He chuckled. “Though I am surprised you caught on quick. You figured out the sped up deterioration was on purpose. But I am really just saving Andal from despair. I’ll keep his soul so close to me once it leaves his rotting body, and I’ll make a paradise.”

 

Silence answered him.

 

“Oh, he will disagree?” Iaoel asked as if Shandra had said something. “He doesn’t really have a choice. He is my cariño, and that is all he is.”


	12. Furnace of Diablo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Fox  
> -Shadow Queen  
> -Andal Brask  
> -"Iaoel"  
> -Shandra  
> -Diablo-4  
> -Seraphina/Sigma  
> -Mirage  
> -Cayde-6  
> -Carla  
> -Rowan  
> -Uldren Sov  
> -Kosmo  
> -Kurami  
> -Petra Venj  
> -Redwood  
> -Keith (mentioned)
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Things for Andal go from bad to worse, causing Fox to rely on others for help.

The deteriorating limbs were crumbling all on their own. Fox didn’t even need to touch them before they began to fold in like wet paper mache. So much black flesh was sleeping out of every crack, sending a horrid smell through the air. At this point, both of Andal’s arms and legs were beyond saving.

 

The deterioration progressed so fast, you could see it. Fox stared at Andal’s arm for a good minute, and watched the skin fold in on itself, all the color draining out of it. Veins were so noticeable in those last minutes, then they abruptly vanished.

 

Fox refused to allow Diablo or Shandra to see Andal. It would tear them apart, atom by atom, to see their dear friend like this. He was nothing but skin and bones, and even would stop breathing every once and awhile, as if choking on his intake of oxygen.

 

Andal’s predicted lifespan went from days to hours in a matter of minutes.

 

“We need to destroy Iaoel,” the Queen finally decided, her gloved hand on Andal’s forehead. “He’s the cause of this.”

 

Instead of arguing, Fox found himself nodding. “It’s only getting faster by the second. Iaoel is likely well aware of what he is doing. Such an act is betraying my orders.” His face grew dark. “And I do not like being betrayed.”

 

“Why is he doing this?” The Queen questioned. “His purpose was to control Andal, not...kill him.”

 

“To be honest?” Fox admitted. “I have no idea. I can’t see what reasoning Iaoel has to be doing this. He is directly attached to Andal’s soul. If he destroys him, he’ll be killing himself in the process.”

 

“Enough talk.” The Queen stood up abruptly. “We need to hurry and find him.”

 

Fox cleared his throat, standing up as well. “Then lead the way, your Highness.”

 

Once they exited the medical bay, their attention was grabbed by a commotion. A lot of Umbrati were gathering at one spot, staring at something. They were growling in their native language and looking at each other, expecting someone to do something.

 

The Queen looked at Diablo jog up from the other direction. “Diablo?”

 

He stopped next to them. “What’s going on?” He questioned, his throat lighting up in orange. “Something’s got the Umbrati panicking.”

 

“Light?” Fox guessed.

 

The Shadow Queen shot him down with, “I would have felt it get this close. It can’t be that.”

 

Fox was already walking forward, pushing through the Umbrati. “Then what could it possibly be?”

 

The three were easily let by, and got to the center quickly. Fox knew what had happened as soon as his armored boot was touching the pool of blood.

 

He stared silently at Shandra’s corpse. He said no words, but his face said volumes. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were wide. His hands twitched as he slowly knelt down and pressed two fingers to Shandra’s wrist.

 

“She’s been dead for a while,” he murmured. “She’s cold.”

 

Diablo fell to his knees. The blood got onto his knees. He leaned forward, reaching a hand out to Shandra. His Exo face couldn’t portray emotions that well, but Fox knew exactly what he felt.

 

“She can’t be,” Diablo murmured.

 

“She is,” Fox replied. “There’s no pulse.”

 

The Shadow Queen felt a shiver go up her spine. “It was one of our own,” she realized. “No Alliance members came in, so only darkness could have murdered her.”

 

Fox ran his hand across her body. All of her blood was trickling out, leaving none to sustain her life. He lifted his palm to see it was now completely soaked. It glimmered in what light the hallway allowed.

 

He looked up. All of the Umbrati were still there. They continued to stare at him and Shandra, murmuring to each other or just staying silent.

 

“All of you.” Fox stood up. “Hunt down Iaoel, the Umbrati with the eyes of a chrono angel. And kill him.”

 

Diablo gasped when the Umbrati scattered or teleported away. “Iaoel?”

 

“It could only be him.” Fox clenched his bloody hand. “No Umbrati has any use to kill Shandra. Though I have no reason why Iaoel is killing Shandra and Andal.”

 

“He purposely sped up the deterioration of Andal,” the Queen explained to a horrified Diablo. “Even Fox can’t come up with a conclusion on why he would do that.”

 

“I thought...Iaoel was our friend.”

 

Fox sighed. “I created him to keep Andal in line. However, I didn’t engineer him to love him back, while Andal obsessed over him. So in the name of whatever god exists, I can’t figure out why he’s doing any of this.”

 

A shotgun pump alerted him, and he looked to see Diablo holding his signature gun. “Let me help hunt him.”

 

“You read my mind,” Fox replied. “Anger and vengeance used in a fight is a powerful move. But it can blind logic. I’ll need to think of a good team that can hold you back if you try to rush into a fight.”

 

The Queen looked a bit worried. “We should make sure Andal is alright. If Iaoel really did kill Shandra, wouldn’t he try to kill Andal, too?”

 

Both boys looked at each other. No words were spoken. However, they both suddenly hit the ground running, sprinting past the Queen and slamming the door of the medical bay back open.

 

They were too late.

 

Iaoel stood over Andal’s body, looking at him. His hand held a blue soul with a black leech of darkness on it, gripping tight at it with its maw. It squirmed and wiggled, never laying still on the soul at all.

 

“IAOEL!” Fox yelled, and his axe formed in his hand, drawing out of the darkness.

 

Iaoel looked, and smiled. “Hello, Fox.”

 

The Shadow Queen unsheathed her blade, pointing it forward. “What are you doing?!”

 

Iaoel caressed the soul. “My poor cariño. He seeks nothing but a paradise. And I will give it to him, where only he and I matter. Nobody and nothing else.”

 

Fox paused. “Is that why you murdered Shandra?”

 

“She was smart. She got too close to the truth. If I let her go, she would have ruined it. Ruined the paradise.” Iaoel shrugged. “But I realized that regardless, you would figure it out. So I decided to cut to the chase and steal his soul while I could.”

 

“This is not what I created you for!” Fox yelled.

 

Iaoel laughed. It was insane, and loud. He tilted his head back, eyes filled with nothing but insane lust and insanity. The three watched him with horror on their faces, unsure of what to do.

 

Diablo was raising his gun to fire when he looked back again. “I can shoot you right now, buddy!” He warned. “Hand Andal’s soul back over!”

 

Iaoel gave a sadistic giggle. “You can keep the body,” he replied. “I don’t need it.”

 

The Shadow Queen rushed forward, rapier pointed forward. All she did was snag the tiniest bit of Iaoel’s clothing when he dodged her gracefully. She looked in time to see him lunge backwards and vanish in a teleportation, avoiding a shotgun blast. The shot only instead pierced a collection of vials instead, sending out a cacophony of glass shattering and raining onto the floor from where they were.

 

“Dammit!” Diablo hissed. “Where did he go?!”

 

“Far away from here,” the Queen answered. “And we have no way to track him.”

 

Fox ran to Andal’s body. The deterioration has stopped, but had consumed the entirety of his arms and only stopped just around the thighs of his legs. He had to get rid of those, then heal him before they could harm his body in any way.

 

Hissing in frustration, Fox began to hurriedly cut off his right arm, putting his axe aside for a hacksaw. “I want all of our soldiers to hunt down that bastard.”

 

“What about the Alliance?” Diablo asked.

 

“They aren’t attacking us right now, and that Light Incarnate of theirs knows better than to-” Fox froze, the blade in mid stroke and embedded in Andal’s flesh. He stood silently, then looked at Diablo. “Rowan.”

 

“What about him?” Diablo questioned.

 

“We have one of his loved ones, his powers are effective against darkness, and he is the most stubborn and unyielding pest I know.”

 

The Shadow Queen gasped. “He can kill Iaoel.”

 

“But how will he, or any one of us for that matter, find Iaoel?” Diablo questioned.

 

Fox, having returned to cutting, listened to the snap of Andal’s bone breaking as he thought. He paused once more before continuing. “Well, a friend of his knows everything that happens in the Umbra Mondo days before we even catch wind of it.”

 

“Kurami,” the Queen said.

 

“Exactly. And she could probably find him more easily than we ever could. Or more exactly...” With one last swipe, the arm was fully detached, and Fox put it aside. “She’ll find him.”

 

For the next few hours, the entirety of all seats of power in Shadow’s Heart worried. Shandra, one of the more elite soldiers, was killed with almost no struggle. How powerful or clever was Iaoel if he did that? As the saying goes, go big or go home, and they definitely needed to go big.

 

The Alliance was contacted anonymously, though there was no doubt that they would realize who the sender was instantaneously. The message detailed what had happened, and requested for the Light Incarnate and whoever he thought was also helpful to hunt down Iaoel. Hopefully the fact that it was Andal who was the victim of this betrayal would sway their opinion.

 

Hours passed, and no response came. Shadow’s Heart had to assume that they either denied it or outright ignored it. That meant that a solution had to be found all on their own.

 

However, when the meeting of officials was called, the Shadow Queen looked at Fox suddenly. When he looked back, she merely nodded and smiled, signalling that something has changed in the Umbra Mondo, and she could feel its power. He smiled back, conveying that he got her meaning.

 

Seraphina leaned on the table, looking at the others gathered. Ironically, for the Umbra Mondo, not a single Umbrati existed in the higher powers.

 

She sighed, then spoke up. “Iaoel has done plenty of damage to the Umbra Mondo. All of the Aerioi fireteam have been retired, dead or comatose, except Diablo-4.”

 

“We need to tread carefully,” Mirage warned, idly itching his stump for a hand. “Iaoel is cunning and resourceful.”

 

Seraphina glanced at it with concern as the Shadow Queen said, “We don’t know what he can do. How could we ever know? We need the Light Incarnate.”

 

_ “Oh, here we go,” _ Seraphina heard Sigma murmur.

 

“We don’t know Iaoel’s power,” Fox continued. “Whatever he can do, it wiped out one of our best soldiers in less than a minute. How long would anyone else last?”

 

Seraphina straightened, obviously against this. “We must not invite the enemy to-”

 

A lone bullet was fired from the entryway, and it streaked across the room. It landed right in the center of the wall, directly on the map that hung on it. All gathered looked at it, then backstage the doorway to see who had just interrupted the meeting.

 

Carla spun Timeweaver and put it aside, Rowan and Cayde-6 by her side. In the back was Uldren, decked in a brand new Blade official outfit as he gripped his belt and slouched in his stance. By his side, Kosmo sat with patience and loyalty, staring ahead at their sworn enemies.

 

“Are we interrupting something?” The chrono angel questioned plainly.

 

“Carla,” the Shadow Queen greeted. “While I’m happy you’re here, can you please never shoot the wall and scare us again?”

 

Cayde walked in, hands raised in defense. “You just keep talkin’ about some big plan and your paranoia. Here’s a plan I got: me, my killer, and my kids go in, kill Iaoel, and leave with our friend’s soul. We get our friend back, you get a thorn in your side removed.”

 

“Agreed,” Fox curtly nodded, though frowned as Rowan walked in. He took one judgemental look at his shabby Guardian outfit. “Could you at least be a little more fashionable?”

 

“I have no personal armor,” Rowan retorted. “But if it comforts you, I got some friends working on a set for me right now.”

 

“I should get you some Umbrite armor,” Fox mused.

 

“I’m not touching anything you or the entirety of the Umbra Mondo gives me,” Rowan snapped as the Shadow Queen rubbed a finger on the shot in the wall.

 

“You can kill him,” Seraphina stated, “But you’ll have to find him first. Even we don’t know where he is.”

 

“Then how will we find Andal?” Carla questioned.

 

Rowan frowned, slouching in his posture and seeming to try and mimic Uldren. “Without ending up like Takumi and Dynamo.”

 

Cayde looks up as if he’s got an idea, then glanced around. “I gotta go, and...speak to an old pal of mine.” He turned and began to walk out. “Come on, kids and gay. We’re leavin’.”

 

Seraphina scowled as they left. “Cayde-6, our conversation has not yet been concluded.”

 

“Your conversation, not ours,” Cayde called over his shoulder. “That’s why we’re leaving.”

 

“Wait.” All three stopped, then looked at Diablo pumping his shotgun. “Let me come with you. Andal is my friend, too.”

 

Uldren paused as Kosmo growled a bit. “How can we trust you?”

 

Rowan frowned. “That being said, how do we know that we won’t be killed when we do this?”

 

“Because we have a common enemy.” Fox approached the group slowly, hands behind his back. “Iaoel betrayed me, and the entirety of the Umbra Mondo.” He stopped when his face was inches from Rowan’s. “And I don’t like being betrayed, as you know very well.”

 

“A man like you deserves to be betrayed,” Rowan returned with the same tone of voice.

 

Fox leaned back, staring at him. His face was unreadable, and he said nothing. Both he and Rowan glared each other down silently.

 

Finally, Fox’s gaze drifted to Rowan’s hand on the pommel of his blade. “If you are going to try and kill me, tell me. What are you going to do against the Shadow Queen and the entirety of Shadow’s Heart?”

 

Rowan’s face was unreadable. He looked ready to unsheath the blade and decapitate Fox where he stood. Then he’ll have a good laugh as he would be slaughtered himself by the forces of darkness.

 

However, a light tap on his arm grabbed his attention. He looked at Carla, who was shaking her head. For what reason she was saying no was unclear to him. No, you still need to complete the prophecy? No, it won’t be worth it? No, you’ll be condemning us to death?

 

Finally, Rowan’s grip on his sword went away. He let his hand drop to his side, but he continued to glare at Fox, who now was smirking at him.

 

“Good boy,” he stated, and Rowan almost lunged forward to tear his head off from his shoulders if it wasn’t for Cayde grabbing his arm to hold him back.

 

The Shadow Queen finally spoke up, breaking the tension between the two. “We need to find Iaoel,” she said. “He could be anywhere, even outside of the Umbra Mondo by now.”

 

“I doubt it.” Fox turned to look at her, stepping away from Rowan. “He’s smart enough to know that you can feel darkness leave the Umbra Mondo. He’ll hunker down and wait until he is sure your attention is elsewhere. So that gives us at least a few hours to a few days to track him.”

 

“How exactly do we go about this?” Seraphina questioned. “None of us know where Iaoel fled to.”

 

Fox glanced around, his smirk turning into a grimace. “That is why I invited a third party.”

 

On cue, the doors slammed open, as if the third party was waiting for him to say it. Everyone except Fox whipped around, eyes going wide. Fox merely turned and gave a slightly disgusted look at the flamboyant entrance.

 

“Hellooooo~!” Kurami sang, waving as Redwood and Petra stood behind her. “You rang, your Majesty?”

 

Cayde was no less than happy to see her. “Kurami!” He exclaimed.

 

“Hey, Spades!” Kurami clapped a hand on his back. “How’s the wife?”

 

“She’s great! Better than ever, actually!” Cayde waved at Redwood. “Oh hey, Red.”

 

Rowan was absolutely flabbergasted. “K-Kurami?! And Red?! But...Both of you...!”

 

“Died?” Redwood guessed. “Well, only I did. Kurami faked her death in order to claim the crown of the Umbra Mondo.”

 

“As you can see, it didn’t work,” Kurami added. “The Shadow Queen beat me to it while I was dealing with my other competitors. She was probably waiting for me to do all of the dirty work so she wouldn’t have any problems.”

 

Carla frowned, crossing her arms. “And you can help us find our uncle’s soul?”

 

“Of course!” Kurami exclaimed. “I know everything that goes on in this heart of darkness! For example, I could tell you right now which part of the Umbra Mondo that little Iaoel of yours is hiding in.”

 

A shiver went down Carla’s back. “I hate that that...thing...is practically ruining that name for me.”

 

“Name your price,” Fox suddenly declared.

 

Kurami cracked an eye halfway open, and a knowing smile went across her face. “Oh?”

 

“You aren’t going to do this just to be nice. What do you want from us?”

 

“Well, maybe I want that little project that your technician has. I heard it’s to die for.” Seraphina scowled at that. “Maybe I want one of your soldiers on my side. Well, to be fair, I’ve already befriended a few, but that’s not important.” Mirage and Cayde each exchanged a set of curious head tilts, pondering what she meant by both of those terms. “Or maybe I just want you to get rid of a weapon or two. Who knows?”

 

Fox sighed. “Make it clear. We don’t have much time as it is.”

 

“Diablo-4.” Fox paused. “I want you to free Diablo-4 from your corruption.”

 

Cayde looked surprised. “Seriously?” His voice was shocked, but full of warmth and sudden happiness.

 

Kurami shrugged. “Hey, man. I know Diablo was an old friend of yours. It’s the least I can do, especially after hearing that Shandra kicked the bucket.”

 

Cayde bounded over in three steps and slammed into Kurami. He hugged her tightly, resting his chin on her shoulder. Kurami looked certainly surprised for a good few seconds, then her eyes went half-lidded, and she smiled.

 

“You’re welcome, Spades,” she murmured, not even needing to hear a ‘thank you’ to get the message.

 

Fox sighed. “I spent a lot of time making the Aerioi,” he stated.

 

“So you’re denying me and my help in finding who is now your enemy number one?” Kurami teased, grinning at this point.

 

The advisor had a very bitter expression. The Shadow Queen raised a hand to place it on his arm. He flinched a bit, but upon contact with her, his expression softened just the slightest.

 

“It’s for Andal,” she declared. “It’s our fault he’s like this. We need to fix it.”

 

Fox was silent for a few more moments. Gradually, his face relaxed into one not pulled on by anger, but softened by an unreadable emotion. Rowan would call it regret, but he firmly believed such a disgusting and depraved man couldn’t possibly have such a feeling.

 

“Fine,” Fox declared. “Diablo-4 will be released from darkness. However, I don’t think he’ll be able to deal with the heartbreak and horrors he’s done in his five years of being consumed. He also has been suffering deterioration, which makes the entire release pointless.”

 

“How bad?” Kurami questioned.

 

“Exos can last a very long time under deterioration,” Fox answered. “He only lost an arm over the past five years. Shandra had lost her entire lower body.”

 

Kurami shrugged. “That isn’t too bad. I think I can still work with that.”

 

Fox frowned. “I just told you, the past five years will push a lot of psychological stress on him.”

 

“You let me handle that, alright?” Kurami raised her hands in a peaceful attempt to calm Fox down. “It’s all under control if you just allow me to take Diablo.”

 

Fox grunted. “Alright, I said. You can have him.”

 

Kurami clapped, gaining a wicked smile. “Alright, alright, alright!” She cheered in a flamboyant manner. “Guess that means we’ll be leaving with the buddy.”

 

Petra scoffed, her arms having been crossed the entire time. “Of course,” she muttered.

 

“Be nice,” Redwood chided her.

 

Rowan blinked in surprise. “That’s it?” he cried, finding this whole exchange strangely simple.

 

“That’s it,” Fox clarified.

 

Diablo looked visibly upset at this development. “But...I need to avenge Shandra,” he whimpered.

 

Fox glared at him. “If you do not do this, there is no way for Shandra to even be avenged. We can’t track Iaoel any other way.” He nudged Diablo, causing him to stumble towards Kurami. “You must do this.”

 

Before Diablo could squirm away, Kurami had his arm in a vice grip. “Thanks, Fox!” she cheered.

 

“And your end of the bargain!” Seraphina suddenly declared before Kurami could flee with Diablo in tow. “Tell us where Iaoel is.”

 

Kurami seemed to have forgotten that for a moment. “Oh?” Her face lit up. “Oh, yes! Iaoel! Got it!” She gave even more of a sly grin. “I can point him out to you. A deal’s a deal, after all.”

 

Rowan felt bad when he saw Diablo’s broken expression.

 

“And Keith?” Rowan couldn't lie when he felt a shiver down his spine at the sudden hostility of Uldren's tone.

 

Fox smirked. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

Uldren was held back by Carla gripping his arm, as he had suddenly pounced into a battle-ready position. “Don't you play dumb!” Kosmo read his sudden anger and began to growl at Fox again, entering a readied stance.

 

“Your beloved halfbreed has no part in our deal.” Fox stepped forward, smiling. “His stay in the Umbra Mondo will last. And before you try anything, I will remind you again, you will most likely be killed before you step foot on the floor he is. You can't do anything.”

 

“He's right,” Carla hissed, and Uldren looked at her as if he had just been slapped. “We can't save him now.”

 

Uldren looked torn up at that. Rowan couldn't blame him. Keith was in this exact building. He could even be down the hall from them. He was so close, but could do nothing to save him.

 

Finally, he motioned for Kosmo to be still. “I will come back,” he declared, “and I will get Keith back.”

 

Fox seemed to take that in stride. “Then try, your Highness.”


	13. Actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -"Iaoel"  
> -Andal Brask  
> -Kosmo  
> -Uldren Sov  
> -Rowan  
> -Cayde-6  
> -Fox  
> -Carla  
> -The Shadow Queen
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> All actions will have consequences, in the end.

Iaoel cupped his hands around the soul. Its friendly blue color was long gone, and now, poisonous orange flames sprouted up from the orb and licked at the Umbrati’s fingers. Long detached from its host body, it now was nothing but a small lifeforce in his hands, unable to resist his whims.

 

He stood in darkness. He hadn’t selected any area in particular in the Umbra Mondo. He just wanted somewhere to stay while waiting for the Shadow Queen to give up the chase. Only then would he be allowed a window of opportunity to escape into the timelines.

 

He’s had his entire plan laid out so delicately. He’ll alter Andal’s soul so much that only Iaoel will be important. It would be ingrained into a Reploid body that bears some resemblance, but not enough so it causes any alarm. He’ll even change his outer identity, going from an Umbrati to a human being to the eyes of the public. And then, they would blend into the crowd of the protected timeline, living out their lives in safety. They will never be bothered again. No more of this confusing bullshit of light and darkness.

 

Iaoel was pissed at Fox, to say the least. His cariño was used as nothing but a tool. He himself was a puppet to his whims, only created to keep his test subject under his control. He wasn’t even meant to have emotions.

 

Honestly, who couldn’t develop the miraculous gift of emotions when they met his cariño? Everything about him was perfect. He was completely and utterly perfect, no matter what. Nobody could ever be as beautiful as him.

 

Iaoel’s entire life was him. His entire life was Iaoel. It was a neat cycle. One that Iaoel swore to not broke.

 

Rooting through his cariño’s memories disgusted him. There was another, with his name and perfect imitations of his eyes. He treated Andal gently, and with great compassion. He was dorky, and smiled in such a genuine way that he could not possibly mimic. He hated him, and he especially hated that smile.

 

He hated that he couldn’t replicate it for his cariño.

 

By now, Iaoel’s noticed how his hand was beginning to clench around the soul, bringing up the unfortunate implication of accidentally damaging it. He immediately relaxed, and let it float above his hand freely once more.

 

Just a few more hours. Iaoel was an expert at playing the waiting game. Before long, he and his love will be safe and far away from any danger of darkness and light.

 

This whole fight was stupid. The Light and Shadow Incarnate weren’t fighting. This prophecy is nothing but bogus if no actions are being taken. If this would all be nothing but an eternal stalemate, he would prefer to take himself somewhere where he wasn’t bothered by this foolish story.

 

Iaoel felt the change in the air before it happened. The hairs on the back stood up abruptly, and he was jolted from his thoughts by a horrible feeling welling in his gut. On instinct, he slammed into the jagged rock closest to him, hugging it close.

 

A good call, too. With a single bound, Kosmo arched through the air and landed where he just stood. The wolf would have surely torn him apart, given the opportunity.

 

Iaoel pushed himself off of the spire, baring his teeth. “Dammit,” he hissed.

 

“Dammit is right, copycat.” Iaoel spun to see Cayde cocking his gun, Rowan and Uldren behind him. “You’re about to get your ass kicked.”

 

Iaoel gave a dry laugh, trying to hide his horror and fear at being cornered so easily. “Where’s your perfect little angel?”

 

“Takin’ care of her uncle, which means you’ve lost all sympathy points that you could have possibly gotten.”

 

Cayde was right. Out of all of the Alliance members, Carla would have been the most sympathetic to his plight. If she even was sympathetic to begin with. She was also the one most likely to spear him on a lance and mount him as a message to his allies.

 

Iaoel’s brain scrambled for a valid escape. He didn’t know how to fight. He wasn’t supplied with the abilities.

 

His thoughts came to a shattered halt as the Light Incarnate took advantage of his paralysis and flicked his wrist. The whip blade automatically followed its master’s command, and shot forward. It found its way through Iaoel’s stomach and out the other end.

 

Iaoel shrieked. The white hot pain was unbearable. Already, tears were pouring out of his eyes. He clutched Andal’s soul even closer, wailing from the pain.

 

Iaoel felt the whip blade removed, and heard it reverting back into its sword form. Already, the metallic tang of blood was bubbling up in his mouth, and he made a gurgling noise. It suddenly became very hard to stand on his legs.

 

“This is for all the false hope you made, you sick son of a bitch.” Cayde’s voice came from dangerously close, and Iaoel could feel his jaw pop the moment the fist collided into an uppercut.

 

Iaoel fell to the ground. So much of his body either hurt or went numb when his back collided. The sweet, warm feeling of the soul flew out of his hands. He suddenly felt cold and dead without it.

 

He forced his eyes open, and rolled. The soul was there, the leech of his lifeforce still on it. With sheer desperation, he began to yank himself to his beloved cariño, ignoring what injuries he was inflicting on himself.

 

A foot stamped down on. Iaoel screamed, feeling Cayde’s heel dig into the back of his hand. He flailed like a fish, trying to get out from under him.

 

“How does it feel?” The Exo was yelling. “How does it feel to die in despair, just like Takumi and Dynamo did?! HUH?!”

 

The foot was removed, Cayde pulled away. “Don’t,” Uldren warned. “This sicko would probably want you to be this pissed off.”

 

The orb of soft orange light in his vision was cupped by a pair of hands and lifted out of sight. “This is Andal’s soul,” Rowan breathed, turning away from Iaoel.

 

“I thought souls were blue,” Uldren stated.

 

Iaoel didn’t care if he had to beg. He wanted his cariño safe in his arms again. “Please,” he gurgled, trying to get up and take back the soul. “Please, cariño, please give him back. He’s all I have.”

 

“Shut up already!” A foot slammed into his skull, enacting a blinding headache.

 

Iaoel could barely hear their conversation over the ringing in his ears. As he laid there, bleeding out and whimpering, Rowan asked, “What’s with the weird leech thing on his soul?”

 

“It could be Iaoel,” Cayde pointed out. “Iaoel is, quite literally, a leech on Andal.”

 

“What happens if I pull it off?” Rowan wondered.

 

At once, a splitting pain went through Iaoel. He shrieked, as if every atom in his being was being slowly yanked apart. Breathing became impossible, and he stopped screaming to try and regain air.

 

“It’ll kill him,” Uldren realized. “If we remove the leech, we’ll remove the nightmare.”

 

Iaoel could feel the pain return tenfold. He screamed again, choking on his own blood.

 

This was it. He was born a tool, and died as a villain. His poor, sweet cariño will be thrown back into a world that views light as good and darkness as evil. He will be caught in a never-ending prophecy, and nothing but pain and despair will be laid out for him.

 

Iaoel noticed someone standing near him. A shaky hand reached out and grabbed the closest leg so tightly, it was bound to be noticed.

 

Uldren’s voice came in a whispered, “What the-?”

 

“Beware!” Iaoel screamed, finally deciding one last rebellion against his creator. “Beware the NMMA! Do not t-!”

 

Rowan pinched the leech, and Iaoel crumbled to pieces as its black guts spilled over his hand. The soul immediately began to swirl with blue, as if taking in a new breath of life.

 

Rowan pulled his hand away, looking at the black splotch. “Ew,” he grumbled. “I should start wearing gloves.”

 

“Or any sort of protective armor,” Cayde lightly bantered.

 

“I’m working on that!” Rowan proclaimed in response.

 

Uldren said nothing. He merely stared at his leg that Iaoel had taken in a vice grip. The Umbrati smoke was drifting away and dissipating as Kosmo nudged the area where Iaoel had been with his snout. The wolf then looked up at Uldren, as if trying to question what his last words were with his caretaker.

 

“Beware the NMMA?” Uldren murmured. “And do not...what?”

 

Cayde put a hand on his hip. “I’ll ask Kurami about it,” he decided. “She stole a huge batch of Fox’s data. No doubt there would be something on this in there somewhere.”

 

Uldren nodded slowly, trying to rid himself of the chill down his spine. “Right.”

 

The way back to Shadow’s Heart was as quick as the travel from it. Kurami’s explanation granted them the location of Iaoel, and Fox’s word protected them from the Umbrati lingering in Shadow’s Heart. There was nothing in between them and the walk.

 

The normal society unnerved Uldren. He expected a tribe, or at least a gathering of war beasts. Instead, there was a thriving city of Umbrati acting out the normal lives anybody would have. Even the castle was more simple than his mental projection. After hearing so many stories about the cruel and merciless race of darkness, this new perspective put him on edge.

 

Rowan kept twitching a bit, gritting his teeth. He continuously rubbed his arm, as if something was on it. Uldren could tell he was nervous, and he understood. Rowan was destined to kill their leader. Such a fight could lead to dire consequences. An Umbrati could probably try to kill him right then and there to protect her.

 

With an odd sense of curiosity, Uldren wondered what would happen if an Umbrati became Light Incarnate. Would the darkness cancel out the light? Would they be destroyed by the clash in their soul? Would they implode or explode, if it was the latter?

 

Uldren immediately paused once they entered the medical bay. Fox was sitting by the unmoving Andal, seeming to be doing something. Carla stood a few feet away, glaring with absolute daggers and having her gun pointed at him.

 

“Carla?” Rowan questioned.

 

“I’m just making sure he doesn’t try anything funny,” she answered, keeping her gun up.

 

“Try anything funny with what?” Rowan immediately scrambled over to see what was going on.

 

Andal’s deteriorated arms and legs were gone. Blood stained where they had been cut off from his shoulders and his waist. In their place, new scarring had occurred, tiny lines running up from his shoulders and legs to his neck and chest or waist. Takumi had those exact same scars where his biological arm had been cut off.

 

Cybernetic arms and legs have now been ingrained into Andal’s skin. To begin, there were ports, and Rowan could obviously see the ball joint in the ports, meaning they could be easily detached. Every part where a joint would be in the arms and legs only showed a tiny bit of a gold exoskeleton before turning to white mold cast into a realistic body shape.

 

Fox looked up, holding a small paintbrush covered in blue. He was busy painting something on Andal’s right shoulder, though Uldren couldn’t really see it from the angle he was at.

 

“Is it done?” Fox questioned.

 

Rowan answered by revealing his hand. The soul had returned to its normal blue color. The leech representing Iaoel was torn away, and the chips marking where its teeth had been were healed up and missing.

 

“Good.” Fox nodded. “I had a feeling it could be done.”

 

“That’s the most approval I’ve ever gotten from you,” Rowan noted.

 

Cayde leaned to try and see what Fox was currently doing. “Didn’t know you were an artist,” he commented.

 

Uldren finally got a better look. The outline of a winged clock had been carved into the shoulder, and Fox was now gently painting the cyan into the lines to pronounce the outline. Underneath was the carving of a banner with the Latin words “Tempus est essentia” inside it.

 

Fox finished painting the outline blue, and dipped the paintbrush into water, flicking it around. “It was Carla’s idea,” he said. “Her uncle wanted a tattoo, but at the same time, didn’t want it to hurt.”

 

“The tattoo w-was one we designed together,” Carla murmured, face flushing.

 

Fox began to dab white into the design to begin the coloring. “Can one of you get the Shadow Queen?” He questioned while not even looking. “I doubt Rowan knows how to place souls back into bodies.”

 

“I didn’t even know I could do that,” Rowan admitted.

 

“Wait, what happened to Diablo?” Cayde looked around.

 

“Hm? Oh. We gave him over to Kurami. I have no idea what happened to him.” Fox resumed painting. “Now, I suggest we get the Queen now, before she attends to other business.”

 

Before anyone moved, the door creaked open, and armored boots clicked in. “I’m here, Fox,” the Queen declared.

 

Fox huffed, smiling for once. It obviously threw Rowan for a loop. “Were you there the whole time?” He lightly teased.

 

“You can’t blame me for being worried!”

 

Cayde looked between them. “I’ve only heard this bickering in one kind of relationship. One of romances.”

 

“You’re in a relationship with the Shadow Queen?!” Rowan exclaimed. “Someone likes you that way?!”

 

Fox stood up. “Rowan, if somebody can will themselves past your obvious flaws and love you, I’m fairly certain I am fair game, too.”

 

“Can we just focus on my uncle?!” Carla snapped all of a sudden. “I just want to be out of here.”

 

The Queen walked over to Andal’s side. The tattoo’s paint had dried fast, and now clung to the metal ball joint. Not a single drop of life has left Andal’s face from the moment his soul was disconnected from his body.

 

“Rowan,” she softly called.

 

Rowan looked up. “Yea?”

 

She gestured him over. “You’ll want to know how to do this.”

 

Rowan slowly crept over. “You’re going to teach me?”

 

“I want us to be on an even playing field. And I won’t be able to help you every time a friend of yours loses their souls.” The Queen paused. “It kind of happens more than you think.”

 

Rowan mimicked the Shadow Queen’s outstretched hands. “Okay. So how does this work?”

 

“First of all, you need to relax.”

 

Rowan immediately began to glare. “Tell me how to relax when I am in the heart of enemy territory, and me and my best friend and family could be killed any second.”

 

Cayde seemed touched. “Aw! You think of me as family!”

 

The Shadow Queen was unfettered. “You relax, and concentrate. Project an image of Andal’s soul in your head. Image it hovering over his body.”

 

Rowan closed his eyes. The soul floated over Andal’s chest, nothing happening in any form in the room.

 

“Imagine the soul reconnecting with his body. Reach out to your magic. Will it to go down.”

 

While the Shadow Queen was completely calm, Rowan’s face was scrunched up. His hands glowed, but no other change occurred. The soul did not move in any way, and Andal remained still on the bed.

 

“Relax,” the Queen repeated.

 

“I’m trying!”

 

“No, you’re not. You’re forcing yourself to. Let it happen.” When no change occurred, the Queen shook her head. “Then imagine you’re doing this in your happiest place. Seize your greatest memory, or dream, then relax and progress.”

 

Rowan’s shoulders tensed up, then went slack. His face slowly lifted, until he was merely just closing his eyes.

 

On Andal’s chest, light began to glow. Carla’s eyes widened as a bright flower unfurled, opening its petals to the world. At its core, the soul drifted down and disappeared into the soft yellow light.

 

The petals curled up, and the blossom vanished. Rowan’s hands stopped glowing, but he remained in his position, as if unsure to stop or to keep going.

 

“You did it,” the Queen said. “You can open your eyes.”

 

Rowan slowly did. “...He’s breathing!” He suddenly yelled, alerting everyone.

 

The Shadow Queen and Fox wisely pulled back. The others ran to the bed, leaning forward with concerned or happy expressions. Carla was especially close, already cupping Andal’s face with her hand.

 

A soft groan passed his lips, and his chest seized before he coughed. When the mini-spasm was over, Andal opened his chocolate brown eyes to the world.

 

Cayde gave a smile. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Brask,” he whispered softly.

 

“Is it over?” He murmured.

 

“It’s over, Uncle,” Carla answered. “You’re okay.”

 

For a moment, Andal was silent. He looked as if he was unable to believe what Carla had just said. He looked like he initially thought she was lying.

 

When it finally registered as the truth, he began to wail. Sobbing, he clutched onto Carla’s hand, his entire form shaking. He fell apart entirely in less than a second.

 

Carla slowly held him up so he could hug her tightly. “Uncle, it’s okay,” she whispered. “It’ll all be okay, from now on.”

 

“Chica...” he cried. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault, Uncle.”

 

Cayde pat Andal’s shoulder, alerting him to the metallic feeling. “We had to replace your limbs because of your body deteriorating,” he quipped. “Hope you don’t mind.”

 

Andal raised his hand, then flexed his fingers. He watched the gold exoskeleton on every joint curl in, the white fingers pressing into his palm. He could feel the pressure, but not the texture.

 

He sniffed again. “Even now, I’m less of a human than I should be.”

 

Rowan smiled. “Hey, don’t worry. Takumi was a cyborg, and he was okay.”

 

Bad move. Andal looked, eyes going wide at the memory. Rowan immediately bit his lip, tilting his head forward as if to take his words back.

 

“I killed Takumi,” Andal whispered. “I killed Takumi and Dynamo, and I enjoyed doing it.”

 

“That was the darkness in you,” Uldren quickly said. “It wasn’t really you.”

 

“I killed them,” Andal whimpered, curling up. “I really did kill them.”

 

Carla sighed. “We need to go home,” she declared. “We shouldn’t stay here. It could affect Uncle badly.”

 

“You got it.” Cayde began to help Andal off the bed. “Steady. Lean on me, if ya need to.”

 

Andal teetered on his feet. The robotic legs clicked and whirred, pressing into the ground. He almost stumbled, not used to the feeling. Luckily, Cayde was there for him to hold onto.

 

“And we get full passage to our jumpships?” Uldren questioned, looking at Fox. “No catch?”

 

Fox shook his head. “No catch.”

 

“You didn’t need to give Andal the limbs,” Rowan stated. “Why did you?”

 

Fox looked away. “It was the Queen’s idea,” he admitted.

 

The aforementioned Queen smiled. “It was our fault he ended up like this. We had to fix it, somehow.” She nudged Fox playfully. “At least you got to be creative, Mr. Artist.”

 

Fox batted her away, smirking. “I haven’t been in a while, to be honest.”

 

“Well, then. We’ll be off. Hopefully, the next time we meet will be the last.”

 

Fox returned Rowan’s glare. “Yes. I hope so, too, Light Incarnate.”

 

Rowan began to radiate with light, but Uldren gripped his arm. The older one pulled him away, Carla walking next to Cayde supporting his lifelong friend.

 

Kosmo went in last, but not before giving the Shadow Queen a quick sniff before tilting his head in confusion. He immediately zoomed to Rowan before sniffing him.

 

Rowan paused. “What is it?”

 

Kosmo looked at the Shadow Queen in an odd manner. She paused, as if expecting him to suddenly talk. Instead, he returned to Uldren’s side, walking alongside him.

 

The Queen and Rowan stared at each other. Despite being destined enemies, no malice was shared between their gazes. Instead, they held a form of mutual respect, or at least a friendly sort of relationship.

 

“You may go,” Fox suddenly declared with a cold tone.

 

Rowan got the message, and followed his group. In less than a minute, the medical bay door was closed, and the Shadow Queen and Fox were alone.

 

The Queen exhaled a breath she had no idea she held. “That was close.”

 

“That dog now probably knows more than the entire Alliance.” Fox scoffed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t talk, otherwise the Light Incarnate could never bring himself to fight you.”

 

“Well, you were close to revealing your own personal truth.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Dye your hair. The roots are growing in.”

 

“They are? Damn. That would have been bad if the Light Incarnate had seen them.”


	14. Ex. Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters in chapter:
> 
> -Andal Brask  
> -"Iaoel" (mentioned)  
> -Fox
> 
> Chapter summary:
> 
> Fox recovers the pieces of paper Andal wrote on during his decline of sanity.

_ Andal’s Log _

 

_ Log 1 _

 

_ I already don’t know how long I’ve been imprisoned. I was given a time frame of two months about three or four days ago. So, I guess it’s been sixty-three to sixty-four days since I’ve seen the sun or talked to my niece or any friends. _

 

_ I found these papers, some infinite ink, and some sort of magic quill in my cell. So I guess I’ll be writing in these, hopefully to keep my sanity in check. There’s nobody else to talk to except myself, and that’s the sign of a crazy person. _

 

_ Maybe sometimes, I’ll write in Spanish to make sure I haven’t forgotten that. I’ve already lost one too many words in my vocabulary. I feel like any day now, I’ll lose the rest. _

 

_ Log 2 _

 

_ My head is pounding. It’s hard to think straight, and the room is spinning. I think I’ve come down with something. _

 

_ I definitely just came down with something. I threw up. Again. _

 

_ The Shadow Queen came. After cleaning up, she healed me with shadow magic, despite my failure to cooperate. It’s really too late for me to regain my appetite, though, so I’m just letting my meal go cold. _

 

_ My headache is back, so there’s that wonderful little spice to go on this heaping boganza of disasters in my life. _

 

_ Log 3 _

 

_ I’ve already run out of things to talk about. It’s impossible to come up with anything when you’ve been locked in a room for who knows how long. _

 

_ I checked with the Queen when she visited with my meal. She confirmed that it has been two months and a week since my imprisonment. _

 

_ Maybe I should try repainting the room. I hate its black and purple color. If I ask, I might get something from the Queen. _

 

_ I asked, and she got me some red paint. For the ruler of darkness and Fox’s boss, she actually is very nice to her prisoners. She treats me like a friend, and even cracked a joke when she brought me paint. I couldn’t help but laugh, as well. She’s probably right in the fact that we would be friends if this prophecy was never a thing. _

 

_ Log 4 _

 

_ I already ran out of paint, and I’ve only got one wall. The bright color actually hurts my eyes, and the dried paint keeps flaking off. This whole thing was a bust. Looks like I’m stuck with these walls. _

 

_ I’m feeling really tired today. Despite my health having recovered, my sleep schedule has not. Then again, I can’t tell how long I sleep or what time it is. I don’t have a clock. And no, chrono angel powers do not work that way. _

 

_ Listen to me, writing as if I am talking to a person. I may have gone insane already. _

 

_ [The next few papers have been completely soaked with ink, as if someone poured an entire stream on them to hide the original content.] _

 

_ Log 9 _

 

_ [Blotted out with ink] ...has returned. He’s always been there, just hiding from my vision. I’m so happy to see…[Blotted out with ink]...He has missed me as I have missed him. _

 

_ I love him so much. We promised we would do anything for each other. Not even death was able to keep us apart. _

 

_ I can’t wait to finally marry him. _

 

_ Log 10 _

 

_ Sacrifices were made. I condemned a soul to hell, but it was for the greater good. I would never let harm befall my beloved again. I wouldn’t allow it. That’s why I had to kill him. _

 

_ [Blotted out with ink]...never forgive me. He never will. But I don’t care. He is nothing compared to Iaoel. Nothing can compare to Iaoel. Not even me. Not even any of my friends. Iaoel is everything to me, now, and I don’t want anything else but him. _

 

_ [The next papers have no set log number, and are almost unintelligible, written in scrawls and ink splotches everywhere.] _

 

**_HE LIED_ **

**_HE LIED_ **

**_HE LIED_ **

**_THEY ALL LIED_ **

**_I’VE BEEN LIED TO_ **

 

_ [The next page holds nothing but cryptic quotes.] _

 

**_I’ve stared the devil in the eyes, and now I cannot look away._ **

 

**_Even when I close them, I see nothing but clawed hands gripping at my face in mock affection._ **

 

**_A spider’s web winds around my brain, trapping my thoughts like flies._ **

 

**_Glass has shattered, and I wish deeply to plunge it into flesh._ **

 

**_Whatever God exists, they have no time for me, and have left me to my personal hell._ **

 

_ [The final page is completely neat and eerily tidy, a direct contrast to the previous pages.] _

 

_ Iaoel is my joy and happiness. _

 

_ I would do anything for him. _

 

_ I don’t think he even cares about me anymore. _

 

_ But I am too far in bliss to care about that, and I still love him with all my heart. _

 

_ I am aware that I am a puppet, and yet I feel I have no reason to fight back. _

 

_ Still, a small voice screams and begs for me to wake up. _

 

_ Funny, stupid voice. I already am awake to witness my number one dream unfold. _

 

The pages were found in the only desk in Andal’s previous room. Ink bled through and stained the interior of the desk, adding to the black color. After Andal and Fox’s artificial soul left the room, now completely under his control, the room was emptied. In his spare time, Fox decided to check it to see what the sniper ruined.

 

The small stack of papers were clenched in his hands, which shook slightly. A frown was evident on Fox’s face, scowling at the papers chronicling a fall to insanity. For some reason, they placed him at discomfort, and disturbed him to no end.

 

His decision made, he tossed them forward into the fireplace. The papers fell neatly over the logs, and were promptly consumed by the violet flames. He watched them curl up and turn as black as the ink spilled so carelessly on each one of them.

 

An involuntary shudder crossed his body, and he quickly turned on his heel. Clutching onto his cape like it was a lifeline, he hurried out, keeping his eyes to the ground.


End file.
